In the Shadows: A Tale of Silver and Gold
by ugahill
Summary: A DracoGinny ficlet, with a thin line between love and hate...
1. Gold vs Silver: In the Forbidden Forest

A few friends of mine are some crazy Draco/Ginny lovers, so, just for fun (since its helping my writer's block) I've composed a story for their enjoyment. Jonah, Joya (aka Ferret2) enjoy the D/G saga as it begins!!   
  
In the Shadows: a Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts)   
  
**Part I: Gold versus Silver: Adventures in the Forbidden Forest**   
  
Draco Malfoy moved through the stone corridor swiftly, dodging the packs of Hogwarts students making their way back to dormitories for afternoon break. Any other point, and he would have made them clear a path for _him_, but urgency demanded he reach the Potions classroom quickly, and so respect for a sixth year Slytherin Prefect would have to wait.  
A group of Gryffindor girls squeezed by, barely making room for his slender form despite the massive size of the hall. They giggled and laughed as they went, and as Draco sneered, one of them turned on her heel, sticking her tongue out at him as she passed by. She turned back to her friends, barely a step out of place, her red-gold hair flying around in a soft cloud.  
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. Ginny Weasley, the sister of the mudblood loving Ron Weasley, and one of Harry Potter's circle of friends.  
_She has some nerve..._  
Somehow, Ginny Weasley had developed from the shy, squeaky voiced little girl she was in his second year to a confident version of her older brothers, and for some odd reason, she seemed to have it in for Draco. He could still remember the scratch of the Bat Bogey hex she'd used on him at the end of the last year; an admirable bit of spellmaking which had more than one effect. Though he'd never let anyone, especially his father, know of it, he'd had a paranoia about bats ever since.  
Weasley faded from his mind for a moment as he approached the dungeon stairs, taking them two at a time, and just clipping a group of Slytherin first years. Professor Snape's office was to the right of the Potions lab, and he flew in without so much as a word.  
And halted.  
Snape was speaking, quietly, at Potter, who was concentrating on the Professor with some intensity. His sudden entrance seemed to startle them both, but as before, when he'd come upon this exact same situation in his fifth year, Professor Snape answered him quickly and calmly, as though nothing were out of place.  
"Yes, Draco?"  
"We had an appointment today, Professor? But if you're busy..."  
Potter lowered his wand. "I'm sorry, Professor, I've kept you over time. I was just finishing up," he spoke aloud, half to himself, half to Draco.  
Snape nodded a slight acquiescence to him as he gathered his books. Draco glanced confusedly between them as Potter turned, shifting aside to pass by Draco, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly behind his gold-rimmed glasses. Draco returned the gaze, then moved towards Professor Snape, who was placing notes into the top drawer of his desk.   
The last time this had happened, the Professor had assured him it was a remedial "Potions" lesson, and he'd taken him at his word. But this was the second time he'd entered the Potion Masters office after a tutorial session, and there was no hint of ingredients, cauldrons or utensils about.   
If Professor Snape noticed his puzzled expression, he did not let on. "What were we studying now, Draco?"   
"The Patronus, sir." He laid his books on one of the shelves in the office, aside a jar of some squiggly substance. "I still can't master it, and we have a test in two weeks."   
The teacher nodded, and pulled his dark wand from his robes. "I assume I do not have to go looking for a boggart this time?"   
"No sir." Professor Snape was well aware of what frightened Draco the most, and as he had quite a few bats at his disposal, could produce them more than efficiently.   
Draco set in defensive stance as the Professor went back into his storeroom to retrieve the bats. His mouth was set as he thought of the ease with which Potter, and all his friends, had managed their Patroni.   
He knew he'd never be able to ace Hermione Granger in lessons–he'd almost given up trying, considering the girl never seemed to make an error in her life–but he thought for sure he'd be able to produce better than Potter...or at least Weasley! But to his surprise, it was Potter who'd come up with the first Patronus of the class, waving his wand about as though he was levitating a feather, and producing an impressive deer.   
He vaguely remembered Potter casting something _similar_ to a Patronus in his third year, but Draco had figured that was impossible–considering the Patronus was a sixth level spell, and Potter was only a third year, and a relatively mediocre one at that. And yet, even before Granger had attempted hers, which took a few seconds longer than Potter's to complete, he'd had his magnificent stag galloping around the room, enchanting all, even the Slytherins.   
Then, when they'd all attempted it, he'd not been able to produce even a whiff of a sliver of smoke. Even Weasley eventually came up with one, a great, roaring lion, which sent Parvati Patil and Pansy Parkinson scampering over to the far corner of the room.   
Weasley!   
Of course, Weasley _was_ a Prefect, but Draco had assumed he'd been made one because there _weren't_ any others smarter than him in Gryffindor.   
That he might fail at something never occurred to Draco. Defenses against the Dark Arts had been a relatively simple class for him, because he knew the curses, jinxes, hexes, and all their appropriate countercurses.   
But the Patronus spell required a bit more than knowledge. It required a complex blend of elements that Draco could never seem to put together. Even when he tried his hardest.   
Professor Snape returned with a cage; Draco poised his wand, gulping, and tried not to remember the feel of little claws and pug noses all over his face.   
An hour later, he was drenched in sweat, his wand hanging limply by his side, as Professor Snape used a summoning spell to pull the bats back into their cage.   
"You are never going to master this, Draco, if you cannot do as you're instructed. The Patronus requires a _pleasant_ thought."   
"But I did have a pleasant thought, sir. More than one." He grinned as he remembered Weasley's scared look at the thought of Granger being done in by the Death Eaters, or Granger's face as he confronted them in Umbridge's office. Or best yet, of Potter as he fell from his broomstick, in front of an entire Quidditch audience. Only this time, Dumbledore didn't catch him...   
"Draco!"   
Draco started out of his daydreams. "I'm sorry, Professor."   
"For as much enjoyment as you might take out of various ways to fashion Potter's demise, they will not serve to improve your Patronus. The thought must be a happy one."   
Draco half-smiled. "But that _does_ make me happy."   
Snape cocked an eyebrow at him, trying hard, it appeared, not to smile himself. "Not happy enough, Draco. Find something that serves a _useful_ purpose, not a vindictive one."   
Draco's smile faded, and he nodded, gathering his books. Outside, groups of trembling first years were making their way into the Potions Dungeon.   
He walked slowly up to the main Hall, lost in thought. A pleasant thought, but not a vindictive one—maybe the time he'd made the Quidditch team? Of course, that had really been his father's doing… He scowled. Maybe he'd never really _had_ a pleasant thought.   
There were voices whispering in the corridor close to the main staircase.   
"Just...keep an eye out, alright? We will only need an hour, or so."   
He recognized Ginny Weasley's voice immediately as she piped a quiet response. "Of course. Only do hurry this time. The last time I had about fifteen different people asking where you were—as you're a _prefect_. It would be so much easier if you'd just let Ron go—he wouldn't be missed nearly as much."   
"He doesn't know Ron. He's more comfortable with me...and Harry. I promise, we won't take long. Ron already knows what to do."   
"But why now? Can't you wait until this evening?"   
"Hagrid asked us to do it this afternoon. And I'd prefer _not_ to be in the Forbidden Forest after sunset. We have a few hours before we'll be missed. Please...just make sure no one asks any questions. We're in the library and don't want to be disturbed."   
Weasley laughed softly. "Everyone will believe _that_."   
Draco watched as Hermione Granger squeezed Weasley's shoulder, then made her way down to the front entrance of Hogwarts, glancing back at the empty hall for a moment before slipping through the front door. Weasley sighed, and began to make her way up the stairs.   
He waited eagerly as she trudged up the long set of stone steps, listening as her footsteps receded beyond the upper hall.   
A chance to catch Potter and that Mudblood Granger outside of the school grounds! He'd not had such an opportunity since his first year. He had to find out where they were going.   
Casually moving towards the doors, he checked both ways for signs of teachers or students, then cracked the doors only slightly, until he was able to slide through.   
He scanned the grounds, moving towards the entrance to the Forbidden Forest. Potter was leaning up against one of the trees, waiting as Granger made her way toward him. Draco had to duck behind a battlement when they scanned behind them for onlookers, but satisfied that no one had followed them, they slipped quickly inside.   
He bolted across the grounds toward the place they had disappeared. If they hadn't gone too far, he might still be able to catch them.   
The trees of the Forbidden Forest rose menacingly over him, clouding out the sunlight that shone above their gnarled tops. Draco had only been in here a few times before–a few times he'd really rather forget–and the Forest still intimidated him, a bit. But he'd learned a little more since that time they'd gone chasing Unicorn blood with that half-wit, Hagrid. Werewolves or no, he'd be able to handle them at sixteen better than at eleven.   
"Going somewhere, Malfoy?"   
Draco turned. Ginny Weasley was standing behind him, her face flushed from running, her wand pointed squarely at him. "I thought I saw your silver mop at the corner of the stair. Do you need another bat bogey hex to warn you to keep your nose out of other people's business?"   
"Granger and Potter are up to something...and I'm going to find out what. If you want to see the rather nasty countercurse for your little hex, go ahead and curse me." He raised his wand in response.   
If she was flustered by his threat, she didn't show it. "Very well. The Bat Bogey Hex is a specialty of mine, and I've been wanting to test the improvements I've made on it."   
Draco frowned. If she'd learned to incorporate _vampire_ bats…   
"Lay off, Weasley. If you're trying to defend your friends, its going to do you no good. I know where they're at, and if you try and make me go back to the castle, I'll just tell Professor Snape–or the Headmaster–they're sneaking about the grounds."   
She didn't respond, and for the first time since she'd cornered him, she seemed to waver a bit. But her wand did not drop.   
"And if you're thinking about Memory Charms, don't. They are very complicated spells and dangerous to boot. It would do you no good to try one."   
Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment her wand fell slightly. He realized he'd just read her thoughts. She recovered gracefully, however. "You're probably right, Malfoy. Better to get this over now than later. I'll let Harry and Hermione deal with you. I'm sure they'd be happy to do it. March."   
Draco stared at her in surprise. She was telling _him_ to go inside? He shook his head a moment, but Weasley stuck her wand to his back and motioned forward. She wasn't as powerful as he was, but Draco was too eager to find out what Potter and Granger were hiding to try and overcome her now.   
He placed his wand inside his robes, and moved into the Forest.   
  
  
  
  
"We've been walking for almost an hour now. Are you so certain you know where you're going, Weasley? Or are you trying to get us purposefully lost?"   
"Maybe I am. I never promised I'd take you to see them."   
Draco turned to face her, leaning back slightly as her wand raised to his face for about the fiftieth time. "That still wouldn't solve the problem of my knowing they came out here. Take me to where they are, or I'll use my privileges and give you _al_l detention."   
She lowered the wand, one eyebrow raised. "Well, mister prefect…to do that, you'd have to explain why _you've_ been wandering out here for the past half hour. How do you intend to get away with that?"   
"I'll tell Snape."   
She narrowed her eyes. "Even Professor Snape has his limitations."   
"Not when they come to Potter."   
"You really are…" Weasley was cut short by a loud, low moan, followed a pounding which shook the ground on which they stood.   
"Oh no…" Weasley gasped softly.   
"GRAWP! GRAWP!" Potter's squeaky voice was yelling through the trees, and without another word to Weasley, he took off in its direction.   
"Malfoy! Malfoy! Come back, you don't understand…"   
He picked up speed as Potter's voice grew closer; across the top of a small rise he could make out a clearing amidst the tall, dark trees.   
He crested it, and froze.   
Potter was standing in the middle of the clearing, next to Granger, who had her wand raised and pointed at a large, earth colored mound of moving rock. He waved his hands above his head, seeming to signal at the rock.   
Weasley bumped into his back, her own brown eyes growing round as saucers at the sight before them. Potter motioned to Granger to lower her wand; she did so slowly, looking at him as though he'd lost his mind.   
"Grawp! Its alright…Hagrid's just taken longer than expected, is all. He'll be back soon!"   
"HAGGAR!!!" screamed the mound, two pieces of it separating and swinging around, knocking down a few saplings as they went. "I want HAGGAR."   
"I TOLD Hagrid not to leave him alone for more than a few days," whimpered Granger, glancing over at Potter. "Now he's upset again and who knows what we can do…"   
"HERMY! HERMY! Grawp want Haggar…"   
The mound collapsed in front of her and she flew off the ground from where she stood, landing flat on her back a few feet away. Potter scrambled over the broken trees and branches to help her up.   
"He's just not used to being left alone is all…we should have come to see him sooner, Hermione."   
Granger rubbed her back. "We just _can't_, Harry! Especially now."   
"You're right," Malfoy spat, marching towards them. "Especially since you're a _prefect_. Which you won't be for much longer."   
Weasley reached for him but he'd already started sliding down into the dell, his wand in hand. Granger and Potter both wore surprised looks that were more than satisfying.   
"_MALFOY!!_" Weasley screeched, chasing him down the slide. "You don't know what you're doing!"   
"Stay where you are, Malfoy." Potter cried, watching the moving mound of dirt. "You don't want to upset him!"   
"Him? That great enchanted piece of dirt? What…has that stupid half-giant gotten bored with flobberworms?"   
"Dirt? You don't know…"   
To his surprise, the dirt shifted, sliding around in a half-circle…until Draco could just make out a pair of half-lidded, sludge colored eyes peering beneath the muck.   
"Mal—FOY…"   
Granger's eyes widened. "He knows him!"   
Potter's face was pale beneath his dark hair, his lightning bolt shaped scar standing out a ghastly red. "Hagrid must have said something about him…"   
"MAL-FOY…"   
The dirt mound stood, now facing Draco, and rose to its full height. A pair of bulky arms separated from the hefty body, clenching fists twice Draco's size. Draco's eyes moved slowly up the form, past the heaving, thick chest, to the great slash of a mouth, set in a frown, to the great, muddy eyes, which were glaring at him with a fiery hatred.   
_A GIANT!_   
"GINNY! TAKE MALFOY AND GET OUT OF HERE!" Potter cried as Grawp lifted his head and roared. Granger and Potter raised their wands once more, all focus on the giant as his bellows rang through the forest.   
"MALFOY BAD TO HAGGAR! GRAWP KILL MALFOY!"   
Draco stood frozen to the dirt, agape, as Potter and Granger began hurling spells at the great gray creature. They might as well have been attacking a brick wall, for all the damage it did. Granger shrieked as the giant took a step forward.   
A warm hand reached for the nape of his robes, yanking him off his feet; another clasped his hand and pulled him around, dashing madly back up the hill towards the deeper parts of the forest. Ginny Weasley's hair flashed as she raced ahead of him, half-pulling, half dragging him across the bouncing ground.   
Draco managed to steady his feet as a great crashing sounded behind him; Granger and Potter's spells continued to fly at the giant, lighting the clearing with gold and garnet flashes.   
He could hear the giant in the distance, storming through the trees, trying to chase them. Potter and Granger's voices had already begun to die away.   
"Malfoy, you are really the stupidest prat alive!" Weasley panted as she pulled him along, glancing behind her periodically for signs of Grawp. "Walking down to face a giant!"   
Draco opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, concentrating on breathing.   
_Better not to let her know I couldn't recognize a full grown giant on sight!_   
The bouncing beneath their feet had begun to cease; Weasley's pace slowed a bit, and she released his hand. Grawp's roars could still be heard, but they were fainter. Whether that was because of Potter's aid or the giant's great size hindering his speed, he couldn't say.   
They paused to catch their breath beside a large tree, Draco panting heavily. "That great lump of an oaf Hagrid is going to be chucked out of here for sure, this time! I'm going to make CERTAIN that he and that monster are both destroyed!"   
"You'll do nothing of the sort, Malfoy!" Weasley panted in return. "Or I'll make sure that Grawp finds you first, make no mistake!"   
He raised his head to glare at her, and found her eyes narrowed darkly, a seething anger burning straight through him. He realized something.   
She hated him. She _really_ hated him.   
That unnerved him, for some reason.   
He laughed shakily. "I'd like to see you. You and your friends are so _good_, you couldn't kill a snake if it bit you. I'd like to see you hand me over to that half-wit of a creature."   
She stood to her full height, marched over to him, and seized him by his neck, pushing him back in the direction of the clearing. Draco struggled with her, twisting around, but her grip was tight, and surprisingly, strong.   
"I'm a Chaser, remember Malfoy? We tend to be a little stronger than the Seekers are."   
The twist of his robes prevented him from glaring at her again, but he sneered anyway. "Fine. I'll won't say anything."   
Of course, he had no intention of doing so, but better to have Weasley unaware of that.   
She released him, one eyebrow raised as though she didn't trust him, but she straightened her robes and marched forward, away from the direction they'd been running.   
He followed her unwillingly, shrugging to put his own robes into place. _That stupid mudblood loving twit! I'll make sure she pays for this._   
They walked together in silence for a while, Weasley leading, Draco following behind so he wouldn't have to look at her face. They came alongside the crest of a soft cliff face, and suddenly, her pace began to quicken.   
"I know this place," she said, half to herself, "we're almost out."   
"Good."   
Above them, the sun was setting. Night would settle on the Forbidden Forest soon.   
"When we get out of here, Malfoy, we're going to talk about what _exactly_ the terms of what you owe should be."   
"What I _owe?_ I beg your pardon?"   
"You didn't think I'd believed you, did you? You'll keep about as silent as a warbling whipper. But you _owe_ me."   
"For what?"   
"For saving your life, you idiot!"   
"Saving my…you did nothing of the sort!"   
She whirled to face him. "If you don't agree to something here and now, I swear, Draco Malfoy, your life is going to be plagued with every horrid jinx imaginable, and if you think the Bat Bogey Hex is bad, you just wait and see what I can cook up! Fred and George were my brothers, you know, and they invented a lot more than _spells_ to torture people!"   
He gaped at her. "You…you little…"   
A great crashing shook the forest, interrupting them.   
"_GRAWP KILL MALFOY_!!!"   
"Oh my…" Ginny gasped. "He can't have…Harry and Hermione…"   
"Failed. Now MOVE!" Draco cried, shoving her aside. The ground tremored beneath them, and Grawp hurtled through the thick trees, his massive form blocking out the remaining sunlight. Ginny screamed as the dirt she was standing on shifted; as Draco moved past, she clutched at his robes, managing to wrap one arm around his. Instinctively he clasped her arm, preventing her from taking him with her over the cliff side, and tried to pull her to her feet, but the giant was rushing towards them, every footstep he took an aftershock to the forest floor.   
Draco whirled around, attempting to keep his balance as she pulled at him, but the earth was too unsteady. Ginny was finally upright, her arms still wrapped in his, staring over his shoulder at the immense shadow of Grawp's form as it closed in on them. He felt her brace herself, trying to keep them steady, but it did no good.   
He stumbled forward toward the cliff's edge, trying to release her, but she wouldn't let go; she was leaning against his weight with all her might, trying to keep him up. Something her slender body couldn't do for long.   
She slipped backwards with a muffled scream, the soft dirt beneath her feet giving way under their combined weight. Draco managed to whip around and pull her into him as they tumbled down the side of the cliff, a tangle of robes, arms, and silver and red-gold hair. The last thing he saw was Grawp's face as he roared down at their disappearing forms, sliding into the darkness beneath a tangle of thorns.   
  
  
  
  
"Hermione. Hermione!"   
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as his friend stirred, opening her eyes slightly and wincing. Grawp had knocked Harry into Hermione as he tromped after Malfoy, slamming them both into a large tree. Harry was uncertain as to how much time had passed since then, only that it was now nearly dark…long past when they should have returned to the castle.   
"Harry? What happ—" She bolted upright. "GRAWP!"   
"He's okay for now…I think." Harry motioned to the great mound that was Grawp's body, now silent and still. "He's sleeping."   
"What!?" Hermione pursed her lips. "Well, fine then! That's just dandy. He goes tromping about the forest, knocking us around as though we're playthings, and now he's sleeping like a little baby. This is the _last_ time I go about babysitting him for Hagrid! No more! And now Malfoy knows! I might lose my prefect's badge!" She looked close to tears.   
The nervous knot in Harry's stomach tightened. "I know."   
The last time Malfoy had discovered one of Hagrid's secrets, it had cost them a detention IN the Forbidden Forest. But having a giant hidden away in the forest was a much worse offense than being caught out of dormitories after hours. Hagrid was sure to be chucked out as both Professor and Keeper of the Keys, and Hermione was very likely to lose her position as prefect. Not to mention the hours and hours of detention for McGonagall they'd have to serve—if they didn't get chucked out of Hogwarts as well.   
"Did you see Ginny? What did she say about Malfoy?"   
Harry shook his head. "I haven't been back to the castle yet. I carried you out of the forest behind Grawp. It wasn't hard to find him, of course." He motioned to the pathway the giant had carved for himself in his mad rush after Malfoy.   
"Hagrid's going to lose his position for certain, this time," Hermione sniffed.   
Harry's knot tightened even more, and he tried not to think of the disappointment his friend might have to face. "Let's get back to the castle before we're too much missed. Ron's been having to cover for us far longer than he should. I'm sure we'll know what Malfoy's said the moment we get back to the castle."   
"What about him?" Hermione motioned to Grawp's sleeping form as he helped her to her feet.   
"We'll stop by Hagrid's cabin on the way back. He should have returned by now."   
With a last, somewhat remorseful look at the peacefully sleeping giant, Harry limped out of the forest.   
  
  
  
  
To Harry's surprise, however, nobody mentioned anything about a giant, Hagrid, or a rule-breaking trip into the Forbidden Forest. In fact, common room discussion focused on the same things it always did.   
Ron came up to greet them almost as soon as they entered the portrait hole, eyeing their bruises with confusion.   
"He give you a hard time?" he whispered, low enough to avoid attracting attention.   
"You have no idea," Hermione whispered back. "Is anyone in your dormitory?"   
Ron's eyebrows raised in surprise, but shook his head no.   
A few minutes later, they were in Harry and Ron's empty room, Hermione seated cross legged on the bed, massaging her sore shoulder; Harry rubbing a bit of alcohol on one of the cuts on his arm.   
"You should probably go and see Madam Pomfrey about those."   
"I wish we could…but…oh, it was awful, Ron! He was tramping about, just barreling after Malfoy and Ginny! We were certain the whole of Hogwarts could have heard him."   
"Beyond that, he knocked us both out…so we couldn't see where he'd gone to or what he'd done," Harry said. "But I checked things out, and I don't think he chased them out of the forest."   
"And Ginny?"   
Harry stopped rubbing and looked up at him. "What do you mean?"   
"Where's Ginny?"   
Hermione's eyes were wide. "You mean she didn't come back?"   
"NO!" Ron jumped up from the bed. "I figured she'd gone out after you, knowing that you might need a lookout. She'd mentioned something about going after Hagrid if you hadn't returned by dinnertime. I supposed she was there!"   
Hermione stared at him with a horrified look, then turned to Harry.   
Harry glanced between the both of them. "Now…don't lets panic. I'm sure there's an explanation. I told you I checked around Grawp, and I didn't see anything that could show that he had caught up to them."   
"Don't get upset?! My sister is out in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, being chased by a giant—with a _Malfoy_! What's not to get upset about?!"   
"We have to go tell someone. McGonagall perhaps…or Dumbledore."   
"No!" Ron cried. "She'll get in trouble…we'll all get in trouble! Hagrid will be chucked out, you and I will probably lose our Prefects' badges…I'd never heard the end of it from Mum…or Percy. And Malfoy will have the last laugh!"   
"What do you want to do? Leave Ginny out in the Forest at night, hoping she'll be safe?"   
"Of course not! Harry and I will go out and get her."   
"You're mad! You can't go out into the Forbidden Forest at night by yourselves, even if you are sixth years! You could get killed—or caught!"   
"Please, Hermione! We've faced—what…a great bloody spider, a great bloody snake, a great bloody dragon, werewolves, Death Eaters, Dementors, even Voldemort…we can handle the Forbidden Forest."   
"You ran away from the spider, the were_wolf_ was your friend, and _Harry_ faced the snake, dragon, Death Eaters, Dementors and Voldemort—four times!"   
"We can handle it, Hermione!"   
"What if you _can't_ handle it? And what's worse, you want to get Harry involved! What if you both get into danger, hurt, or…or…?   
"It'll be all right, Hermione," Harry said. "We can take my Dad's Invisibility cloak out."   
"An Invisibility Cloak isn't going to protect you if something attacks you."   
"No…but we can take care of ourselves. Like you said, we've handled all those things before, we've had Defenses against the Dark Arts training…and above all Ron's right, Hermione. We can't get Ginny or Hagrid into trouble."   
She pursed her lips, but after a moment, nodded.   
"You stay here and keep watch…pretend you're studying, or something."   
"Not much of a stretch," Ron replied, but it lacked his usual snap.   
"If we're not back by morning, tell McGonagall…or Dumbledore."   
"And what about Malfoy? The Slytherins are bound to notice he's missing…what if they go questioning Professor Snape?"   
"Does Malfoy _have_ anyone who would miss him?" snarled Ron, digging through Harry's trunk for the cloak.   
"Despite what you may think, Ron, Malfoy is rather popular in his own house. Pansy Parkinson, for certain, will be worried about him." Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste as she mentioned Pansy's name.   
"Hopefully they'll think he's just up to something nasty. He's done it before. But we do have to hurry. The sooner we find them, the sooner we can deal with Malfoy _and_ Slytherin."   
"What'll we do if we're missed?" questioned Ron, sliding the cloak halfway around him. He was so tall, he had to bend down in order for the shimmering folds to cover his body.   
"Don't worry about that," said Hermione, rising. In a few moments, she had stuffed pillows into their bedclothes, and whispered a spell that echoed Ron's loud snores and Harry's quiet breathing perfectly.   
Harry looked at her in amazement. "How do you know what we sound like when we're asleep?"   
"I do not sound like that!" Ron hissed.   
Hermione blushed a bright shade of red. "I…I'm certain I've heard you when you've fallen asleep in the common room."   
Harry said nothing but eyed her suspiciously. She blushed more deeply. "You had better go now, before it gets too late!"   
They nodded, covering themselves completely with the cloak—which, if either of them grew any taller, they wouldn't be able to do much longer—and headed down through the slowly clearing common room. Waiting at the portrait hole for a Gryffindor to enter or exit, they made their way out of Hogwarts, into the night.   
  
  
  
  
Draco raised a hand to his pounding head; his vision blurry as he tried to survey the scene around him. The last thing he remembered was falling away from a hideous face, and hearing a loud crack as his head collided with some hard, unseen object.   
His body wouldn't move; he felt as though a weight had been laid upon him, and for a moment, he panicked.   
As his vision cleared he could just make out a splash of red covering his entire chest—was he bleeding?   
Then, he remembered.   
_That giant…Potter…and **Weasley**…_   
Ginny Weasley was lying halfway across him, her soft hair spread over his stomach. He sat up, wincing at the pains that burned across his body, and touched her face.   
She was still warm, meaning she wasn't dead—in fact, she was breathing softly, despite a large gash across her forehead, near her eye. Draco felt his own head tenderly; his hand met with a sticky substance near his neck, already caking in his hair. He must have hit a rock or some other sharp object, but the blood was nearly dry, meaning it hadn't cut him too deeply, though it _had_ given him a throbbing headache.   
He slid out from under Weasley and stood carefully, his head spinning. He tried to survey the scene, but in the gathering darkness all he could make out was the tangle of shrubbery around them. He felt about for his wand, and sighed thankfully at finding it completely intact.   
"_Lumos_," he murmured.   
The air around him lit up from the glowing spark at the end of his wand tip, and he could make out the high, rounded sides of the small vale they'd fallen into. Luckily, there was a path leading out of it, but it headed away from where they'd fallen—and the direction Weasley had been sure would lead them out of the Forest.   
He lowered the wand to her face and she stirred as the brightness neared her, opening her eyes slowly. "Where…where are we?"   
"In the Forbidden Forest, remember? Where your bloody so-called 'friends' _put_ us."   
"Malfoy?" she squinted, then moaned as she pushed herself into sitting position. "What are you…" Her eyes widened as she remembered. "Grawp?"   
"If you mean that hideous giant, he's not anywhere. At least, not that I've heard."   
She glanced around the vale, taking in the dark corners eerily lit by the light from his wand. "How far did we fall?"   
"Too far to hike back up, if that is what you're thinking," Malfoy raised his wand to the level path that led out of the valley. "The only way we can get out is through there."   
Weasley pushed herself to her feet, tottering unsteadily, and touched a finger to her cut, wincing. Despite himself, Draco reached out a hand to help her, but she shoved it away.   
_Really_ hated him…   
"This is all your fault, Malfoy. If you hadn't been so determined to get Harry and Hermione into trouble, we'd never be in this mess! Isn't it enough that they've got to risk their lives to save you and all the people like you from Voldemort? Now we might get detention…or worse!"   
Draco started; he'd never heard another witch speak so openly about the Dark Lord. "They have not done anything to "save" me. I don't need saving! And if anyone has a reason to _hate_ them, its me, considering they put my father in Azkaban!"   
"It was nothing he _didn't_ deserve."   
Draco's pale face twisted with rage. "If Potter and all his friends—including your family—end up dead, then they'll have gotten exactly what they deserve!"   
The side of his face exploded as she slapped him forcefully, knocking him off balance and to his knees.   
"You'll get yours, Malfoy!" she shrieked, tears of anger coursing down her face. "One of these days, you'll join your father in Azkaban—or get killed—and no one will care one bloody bit!"   
He hadn't even seen her pull out her wand, but it was shaking unsteadily in her hand as she tried to control herself; he remained, stunned, on his knees, his head still spinning, holding his cheek where she'd slapped it. "I hope you die in these woods! Grawp had it right! Kill Malfoy!"   
Without another look, her shoulders still shaking, she marched past him, down the pathway and into the Forbidden Forest.   
  
  
  
  
Draco slowly rose to his feet, his face contorted in anger. Who was she, to think that by destroying his family, she and all her friends were in the right?   
_Kill Malfoy?_   
"WEASLEY!" He gathered himself and began to chase after her. "WEASLEY!"   
"I HAVE NOTHING LEFT TO SAY TO YOU, MALFOY!" she screamed back at him, turning only slightly so that her hair flew out around her. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"   
"WEASLEY!"   
She broke into a trot ahead of him, trying, he assumed, to put space between them.   
He gritted his teeth and dashed after her. He _was_ going to make her see things more clearly! But she was quick. She had been a seeker, and even Draco, with his Seeker build and training, would have a difficult time catching her. He raised his wand.   
_"Demorari!"_ His spell flew across the clearing, covering her in a shower of silver and green sparks. Weasley pitched forward, her feet frozen to the ground. Draco crossed his arms.   
"Now we can talk. About respect…and Bat hexes."   
Weasley turned, eyebrows narrowed, then swiveled as best she could. If she'd been angry before, she was angrier now. "_Impedimenta!"_   
Not expecting her to react, the spell hit him full force, knocking him completely backwards. He lifted himself up onto one arm, wincing, as she freed herself from the Halt Spell. She turned to face him, a snide smile spreading across her tear-streaked face. "What was that, you git?"   
Without a moment's hesitation, Draco struck out again. "_Averte Statum!_"   
The spell smashed into her, whipping her feet out from underneath her and slamming her onto her back with a very satisfying crash. For a moment she lay still, and Draco thought he might have hurt her, but as he straggled to his feet, Ginny, startled but not stunned, had already raised her wand.   
_"Immobilus!"_   
He flew to the side, just dodging the blast of silver and gold sparks flying at him.   
"_Expelliarmus!_"   
Ginny rolled over, his spell just missing her red hair. She leapt to her feet with grace, and raced for the shelter of a large tree trunk.   
"_Impedimenta!_"   
"_Petrificas!_"   
"_Supplico Adegi!_"   
"_Silencio!_"   
The clearing was now a shower of silver, green, and gold sparks. Draco had rolled behind one of the tree's large roots, trying to catch his breath. Her last spell had just missed him. _Who would have known Weasley would be so skilled?_"   
As if in response, her voice rose over the forest floor. "_Accio Chiroptera!_"   
The spell burst out through the thick trees with a golden gleam as bright as sunlight. There was silence for a moment; then, the squeak and flutter of hundreds of wings filled the air, and Draco felt a familiar sense of dread spread through him.   
_Bats! She summoned bats!_   
The bats were already flying into the clearing, towards the still glowing tip of Ginny's wand. He would have to be quick, or they would be directed towards him, and he would never be able to get away. Panic-stricken, there was only one spell he could think of that might work.   
"_Finite Incantatem!_"   
The bats, who were blocking out the slender beams of moonlight spearing through the trees, began to disperse, the flutter of wild wings and tiny, furry bodies gone within seconds. He stood up to glance at the air above him, now silent, but even before he'd fully emerged, he knew he'd made a critical mistake.   
"_EXPELLIARMUS!!_" His wand blew out of his hand and he was shoved backwards, into the tree. Ginny pointed her wand at his, a good few yards away from him. "_Accio Wand._"   
His precious wand, unmarred by even six years of fierce use, flew into her hand.   
"Ron's right. You really are a cowardly prat. I saved you from Grawp, I tried to prevent you falling off the cliff, and what do I get? Chased. Attacked in the _back._"   
"_You_ insulted my family. _You_ ran away from _me_. And _you_ returned the favor."   
"Because I would expect you to do what…talk rationally about your problems? Or hex first, ask questions later?"   
She twirled his wand in her fingertips. "I have half a mind to leave you right here, to see how you like being snuck up on. Or left for dead…"   
"You wouldn't dare!" he said, seething. "You're just like that idiot brother of yours. You don't have it in you."   
"Ahh…but I would. See, you're wrong about me, Malfoy. My family might be muggle-lovers, but we're not all of us kind. I'm not particularly like my mother. In fact, I guess you _could_ say I'm a bit like my brother—my brother _Percy_. Show no mercy."   
She pointed her wand straight at him. "_Petrificus Totalus!_   
A soft silver cloud shot from the wandtip, engulfing him in a spell which immobilized him, until he couldn't feel anything. He stared at her in horror as she moved towards him, coming so close her face was only inches from his.   
"Let's see how you like lying about in the Forbidden Forest, waiting for someone to find you, at the mercy of every beast imaginable—manticores—werewolves—gytrash—and other pleasant things. Will you scream? Or go out bravely? If you can't live with honor, maybe you can at least die that way." With that, she turned on her heel, still twirling his wand about her fingers.   
Leaving a petrified Draco agape in the middle of the clearing.   
  
  
  
  
Harry had tried to make his way towards the great burst of light that had filled the forest just a few moments ago, but he had no idea where it had come from, or who had cast it.   
For now, he and Ron had split up (an agreement they'd decided they'd _not_ fill Hermione in on) and had been searching the forest independently for quite a while. Harry had been certain that the light had come from either Malfoy or Ginny, but he was a bit puzzled to what purpose it served, unless they were being attacked by something…   
Hagrid tromped over towards him, lantern in hand and Fang by his side. "Hiya, Harry. Any sign o' them?"   
Harry shook his head. "I've not heard a word, Hagrid. I'm a bit worried."   
"I'm so sorry 'bout this," Hagrid sniffed, bowing his shaggy head. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't asked you an' 'ermione to keep watch o'er Grawpy…"   
"Look, Hagrid…there was nothing you could have done. Malfoy's Malfoy. He decided to follow us, and Ginny decided to follow him."   
"I know…but if I hadn't mouthed off to Grawpy about the terrible things Malfoy's done ta you and everyone…guess I'll be keepin' my mouth shut about such things from now on…"   
"Um, listen, Hagrid—about that…there isn't anyone…_else_…Grawp knows about, is there?"   
"Well…er…mighta mentioned somethin' 'bout Professor Snape a time or two…and V-Volder…You-Know-Who, 'course, but if Grawpy has a run in with 'im I'm not like ter stop him!"   
Harry sighed. "Unless he gets himself killed. You need to take more care with him, Hagrid. You're lucky Malfoy didn't know the Killing Curse, or Grawp might very well be dead right now."   
Hagrid grew somber. "O' course, you're right, Harry. I don' want nothin' ta happen to Grawpy. Or you. Or even Malfoy, fer that matter."   
A tramping through the bushes interrupted them; a few moments later Ron emerged, pulling off the invisibility cloak—which Harry, after rather a long discussion about acromantulas, had finally convinced him to take.   
"Have you seen anything?"   
"Not a sign."   
Ron's face was beginning to show signs of worry. "Where could they be?"   
"Right behind you."   
Harry, Ron and Hagrid whirled about in surprise as Ginny made her way out of the Forbidden Forest, wand tip aglow.   
"_Nox._"   
"Ginny! Where have you been? Are you alright? We've been looking for ages!" Ron rushed over and hugged her, a gesture which made both of them, after a moment, blush red to the roots of their hair.   
"Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked, peering behind them.   
Ginny smiled as Ron released her. "He's coming."   
Within a few moments, a rather battered-looking Draco Malfoy emerged from the gloom, dark circles lining his eyes, a weary look across his face. His usually perfect silver hair was mussed, stained with dirt, leaves, and a red, caked film that looked like blood.   
"Oy, Malfoy, ter you alrigh'?"   
Malfoy glared at them hatefully, then at Ginny, who raised her wand at him. With a slightly beleaguered look he nodded.   
"Let's get you both ter Madam Pomfrey…that cut needs to be looked after…and so does your head, Malfoy."   
"I'm _fine_" he spat, pushing past the group roughly. I don't need the Hospital Wing."   
He started back towards the castle, but Ginny yelled out after him.   
"Don't forget our promise, Malfoy."   
He stopped, shoulders jerking in consternation, but after a moment, nodded and continued on.   
Both Ron and Harry turned to her in amazement. "What did you get him to promise?"   
Ginny smiled, but shook her head. "Its not important. Let's just say that he won't be spreading information about Grawp, you, or Hermione any time soon. Now let's get back—people will be missing us, and my head is pounding!"   
Harry glanced over at Ron in puzzlement, but his friend just shrugged, handed his sister his arm, and started back towards the castle.   
  
  
  
  
They managed to get back into Hogwarts without a fuss. A few hours later, Hermione was walking back from the Hospital Wing with Ginny, who had a cold compress held to her forehead.   
"At least you've only got to deal with the bruising."   
Ginny nodded. Madam Pomfrey (after much questioning and a few critical looks) had healed her cut instantly and told her to hold the compress to her head to help ease the pain. But she'd been satisfied there wasn't any greater damage. She'd even spared some time to help heal Hermione's wounds, albeit sour-faced at Hermione's secrecy regarding how she got them.   
"I wonder if Malfoy will go. He really struck his head when we fell."   
Hermione eyed her suspiciously. "Why would you care what happens to him? According to you, he deserved what he got."   
Ginny frowned. "I know it's the truth, but perhaps…there was something in his mannerisms that puzzled me. I don't quite understand it."   
"Like what?"   
"Well, for one, when we fell down the edge of that precipice? Malfoy _turned_."   
"So?"   
"I mean he turned as though he wanted to be the one to take the first blow. He pulled me into him…like he was protecting me."   
"_Malfoy?_" Hermione laughed. "You were imagining things. He probably did that thinking he'd suffer less damage if there was someone soft to land on."   
"Maybe…but…"   
"Draco Malfoy has never attempted to protect anyone in his _life_. Not even other Slytherins. Why would he start with a _Weasley_ of all people?"   
"I don't know!"   
Hermione stopped in the hall, eyebrows raised at Ginny's rather sharp tone. "What are you thinking, Ginny?"   
Ginny blushed. "N-nothing. It's just…when he attacked me with the spells and such…he could have used a much more damaging one that a Halt spell. Why didn't he use a Stunning Spell? Or any one of a number of hexes? Or the Imperius or Cruciatus curses? I'm certain he knows those. But all he did was a Halt spell. I just…don't understand."   
"He probably wasn't thinking. Or maybe he was waiting to torture you _after_ you talked. Or maybe he didn't want to be responsible for injuring you further, knowing what might happen to him. After all, if he didn't come out with you, he'd have to explain it."   
"So? No one _knew_ that I'd gone out with him."   
"Except Harry and I."   
"Okay then…so why not just say I'd been attacked by a thestral or gytrash or something? He wouldn't have to claim responsibility, and any number of people would believe him. Why not at least knock me out? Or leave me for dead when I was unconscious? It doesn't make sense."   
"It makes perfect sense. Malfoy was protecting his own interest, is all. That doesn't mean he has to get rid of you. He's not Voldemort."   
"Still…"   
Hermione placed her hands on Ginny's shoulders. "I believe in trying to save a person as much as the next girl. But I think you're looking too hard in this case. Draco Malfoy has never been, nor will he ever be, the kind of boy who believes in decency. Or compassion. Don't try to look for the good in him, because you'll never find it."   
Ginny raised a hand to her throbbing head. "I know you're right. I just…I don't know…for some reason I was hoping…"   
"I've thought about that from time to time too, so don't feel bad. Thinking that perhaps people aren't as evil as they appear. But after last year…with some people, particularly the Slytherins, I think I've finally given up trying."   
"Its…it makes me sad, is all."   
"Because you're a good person, Ginny. You've got a kind heart."   
"Thank you, Hermione," Ginny smiled faintly. "Listen…do you think you could…you know…keep this between us? Don't tell any of the others, okay?"   
"Are you joking?" Hermione laughed. "Your brother would kill you. Then he'd kill Malfoy. Don't worry about it…and try to forget what happened tonight. You're going to have to find some way of dealing with your brother and keeping an eye on Draco all at the same time."   
The thought heightened the pounding in Ginny's head. "Ugh. Let's just get back to Gryffindor."   
Hermione smiled and followed her, but thought pensively the entire way.   
  
  
  
  
"You just HAVE to go, Draco! You have to! That could really be serious!" whined Pansy, touching a damp cloth to the back of his head.   
Draco winced in pain, but shook his head.   
"Draco…"   
"LAY OFF! I'm fine!" he snatched the cloth out of her hand and tossed it to the floor, rising from one of the lush settees that lined the Slytherin common room.   
Pansy looked hurt, but at the moment, he didn't care. She was irritating him. Everyone who was staring at him was irritating him.   
Zachary Tolbert shifted from his sitting position, crossing an arm casually over the side of the couch. "So, then, what exactly happened again?"   
Draco fidgeted, one hand opening and closing in a compulsive clutch. "I told you…I was trying to find out what Potter and Granger were up to. When I followed them into the forest, I was attacked by…by _something_ and I don't remember what happened next."   
"Professor Snape should know about it, then," said Blaise Zabini. "You know how keen he is to catch Potter in any kind of trouble."   
"It might have been Potter himself who attacked you."   
"Right," snorted Vincent Crabbe. "Potter, the peace-loving saint? You've got to be joking."   
"I wouldn't call him peace loving!" yelled Anthony Dolohov. "He laid it out on my Dad!"   
"And mine."   
And MINE," Theodore Nott looked up from his book. "He's got it in for all the Slytherins."   
"If you parents had been a little more up on guard," snapped Millicent Bulstrode, "he wouldn't have gotten to any of them. Besides that, they were done in by Aurors, not Potter. I wouldn't give him that much credit."   
"It wasn't Potter…it wasn't anyone! I don't know who it was!" Draco stood and pushed aside Pansy, who'd been attempting to treat his wounds again with a new handkerchief. "Its over and done…I wasn't able to catch Potter OR Granger doing anything and it won't do any good to tell Snape…you know how he'll want evidence that even Dumbledore can believe."   
"Which you don't _have_," said Millicent.   
"Right! So lay off!"   
"We're only trying to come up with something. It seems a shame you having gotten hurt to come up empty handed."   
"Well that's the way it is, isn't it? That's ALWAYS the way it is! Bloody Potter and his bloody, no good friends, always winning, never getting hurt! It's the way its always bloody been and the way its always bloody going to be!"   
He kicked his foot out, smashing over a candelabra that had been set on the table. The other Slytherins lifted their carefully drying parchments out of the way of the skittering sparks and flying candles.   
Pansy dropped her third handkerchief.   
"Bloody Hell," muttered Nott, wiping up an upturned ink jar. "What's wrong with you? You've been foiled by Potter and his friends before, this is nothing different. Why are you getting so upset?"   
Draco glared at him, turned from the group and marched up the stairs to his dormitory. A well placed enchantment saw to it he wouldn't be disturbed.   
He sat on the edge of the bed, the back of his head still throbbing. He'd been irritated ever since he left the forest, and for good reason.   
He really thought she'd leave him there. Her footsteps had died away, and the wand tip, which she'd lit, folded into the darkness. For a few moments, he'd heard the howls of the wolves, and sounds of things he'd imagined only in his nightmares. The shadows had crawled along the dimly lit forest floor like ghouls, and he could have sworn he heard the sounds of a low-pitched moan heading towards him. Just a few minutes alone, and he'd actually been reduced to a sniffling, teary-eyed child before fear had made him scream piteously.   
Only then, had she returned—laughing.   
Laughing!   
He buried his head in his hands, her face still flashing before him. "Nothing…absolutely NOTHING about Grawp, Harry or Hermione that would get them in trouble. Or I'll tell the whole school—the whole world—about how the great Draco Malfoy screams like a little girl."   
And she'd released him.   
What irritated him the most, however, wasn't the humiliation. Or the promise. Or the looks on Potter's or Weasley's face as they'd watched him at his lowest, agreeing to obey her without protest.   
It was that he couldn't get her face out of his head.   
Her soft brown eyes, sparkling mischievously, as she'd bent down to him. The turn of her lips, a sweet, yet malicious, smile. And her hair…a waterfall of red, flowing down over her shoulders, just tickling the edge of his face…   
He flung himself on the bed, oblivious to the pain it caused the gash on the back of his head. Ginny Weasley! He was admiring Ginny _WEASLEY!_   
He was disgusted with himself. That he could admire someone like her—one of Potter's friends—a _Weasley_—sister to that knit Ron. Friend to that mudblood Granger—it made no sense!   
It couldn't be her personality…Granger had defied him many times, and he'd _never_ felt anything for her!   
If anyone in Slytherin found out they'd been together…   
It had been this, and not her threat, that had kept him silent about that big oaf's hidden giant. The idea that the Slytherins would have to question how he got out of the forest, what had happened between him and Weasley…he was certain she'd tell them everything.   
How he'd tried to protect her when they'd fallen…   
He shook his head—that had been an instinct to protect himself—he knew it would be safer with two people, to shelter the blow each of them would receive at the bottom. He'd wanted to live…and he needed her as a cushion to do it.   
_Except I twisted around…_   
"Bloody HELL!"   
He leapt up, the table to his right toppling over. He grabbed the nearest object, a Bathmorda's Eye, and threw it at the picture of Slytherin that decorated every Slytherin dorm room. The eye shattered on impact, and the portrait ripped, an ugly tear gashed down the side of the ever noble face.   
"Draco?" the knob turned on the door, and Goyle's voice filtered through. "Are you alright?"   
Draco flopped back down on the bed, pulling out his wand (which she'd given him back after considerable taunting, and only at the edge of the forest) and dispelled the enchantment.   
Crabbe and Goyle pushed in. "Are you going to be alright?"   
He turned to his side, ignoring them. He had to think of a way to get Weasley out of his thoughts.   
In the front of the room, Crabbe poked at the fire with his wand, the sparks sending out a slightly greenish tint to the flames.   
His eyes closed for a moment, absorbing the heat and taking in the quiet crackle of the fire.   
And he realized what he could do.   
He couldn't get Potter and Granger in trouble…Weasley wouldn't allow that…but he _could_ find a way to get rid of Hagrid once and for all. And get Weasley out of his head—and back to hating him—for good. He smiled slyly, and turned to Crabbe and Goyle.   
"I think I need to visit the hospital wing. Come on, help me up."   
  
  
**Draco can be rather dastardly, can't he? Well, you're not supposed to love him—but how about Ginny? She's not quite as sweet as she first appears—well, she is the sister of Fred, George and Percy too! So what's Draco going to do to thwart Ginny's well laid plans? And redeem him nasty side? Find out in the next part!   
***Thanks to Joya for helping me lay the groundwork for this D/G series! 


	2. Unraveling the Floo Network

In the Shadows: a Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts)   
  
  
  
  
**Part II: Unraveling the Floo Network**   
  
  
  
  
"Are you feeling alright? Better?" Ron pushed another piece of hamsteak towards Ginny. "You should probably eat some more."  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, Ron. And I'm not hungry." Ginny shoved the plate back as Harry, Hermione, and the rest of the sixth year Gryffindors looked on, amused.  
"You need to get your strength back."  
"I have my strength back. Nothing happened!"  
Ron frowned, but said nothing more. Hermione, true to her word, had not revealed to Ron or Harry what really happened in the Forbidden Forest. All they knew is that she'd "saved" Malfoy from something, and that was what had him beholden to her.  
Of course, Ron had wanted to take full advantage of that, but Ginny refused. Beyond having to explain the truth, she also didn't want to upset Malfoy any more than he already was. There was really no telling what he might do when her back was turned.  
She glanced over at the Slytherin table; Malfoy was nowhere to be found. Hermione, who'd followed her gaze, shrugged.  
"Come on…Charms is about to start." Harry looked put off, but he, Hermione and Ron gathered their books. "Take care, Ginny. And watch yourself. Don't do anything too difficult, alright? I'll check on you around lunch?"  
Ginny sighed. "I will be FINE."  
"Come on," Harry said, catching Ginny's wearied expression and shoving Ron gently in the back. "We don't want to be late."  
  
  
By lunch, Ginny was puzzled. She knew she'd have to be on the lookout for Malfoy, but the problem was, he wasn't anywhere to be looked after.  
"He wasn't in Charms," Hermione told her at the table. "I overheard Pansy mention something to Professor Flitwick about his not feeling well."  
"Do you think he really needed to go to the hospital wing?"  
"I suppose so. She also said Draco had come back with a bandage wrapped around his head."  
"What?! Madam Pomfrey can heal cuts instantly. Why would he have his head wrapped?"  
"This isn't the first time he's done this, you know. He seems to enjoy the sympathy."  
"No…there's more to this, I'm certain of it. He's up to something."  
Harry and Ron arrived at that moment, and they couldn't discuss anymore, especially since Ron spent most of lunch checking her pulse and watching her eat.  
By mid-afternoon, Ginny was completely out of sorts. Malfoy wouldn't have kept to the dormitories this long, and she'd even gone to the Hospital wing to check and make sure he wasn't there. But he was nowhere to be found. When she'd tried to press one of the Slytherins about where he'd gone to, the girl (a first year) merely squeaked that it wasn't any of her business and to be on her way.  
Ginny had given her detention for being smart to a prefect.  
_A First year! To a PREFECT!!_  
The rest of the day went little better. In Potions, she'd been attempting a boil remover when one of the Slytherin students mentioned something about Draco's being 'in dire straits' and 'unable to come out of his room at all.' She'd been so caught up in their conversation she'd misread the ingredient list and spent a half-hour after Potions cleaning up the exploded, pustule covered contents of her cauldron, with Professor Snape muttering something about 'Weasley's and explosions.'  
Then, at Quidditch practice, something she normally was completely focused on, she missed half a dozen goals—without Ron playing Keeper—at which point Harry (on Ron's insistence) decided she needed to 'allow the alternates time to practice.'  
And when she happened upon two fourth years snogging in one of the abandoned classrooms later that afternoon, she had scolded them, promised points would be deducted from their respective Houses, given them detention, and sent them on their way—then realized she didn't know who they were or to which Houses they belonged!  
_Malfoy has me entirely confused. If this keeps up, I'm going to go mental by sunset!_   
She decided that worrying would accomplish nothing. If Malfoy said anything, she'd deal with it then.  
At which point, he finally appeared. Ginny was returning to the Great Hall for dinner, when she caught a gleam of silver hair (poking through a swath of bandages) slipping up the main staircase. A wash of mottled confusion and, strangely enough, relief, washed through her. But if he was out of bed, then…  
_I knew it!! He IS up to something…_  
Shouldering her bag, she tiptoed after him, following as discreetly as she could. Thankfully, a few Sneak Spells helped her out a bit.  
Too bad he didn't think of those for himself yesterday…  
His first stop was the Owlery, and the great eagle owl that belonged to the Malfoy family. He paused there only for a moment; tore open the small, rolled parchment attached to the owl's leg, and smiled.  
She slid into the shadows as he walked past her, discarding the parchment into a potted plant nearby.   
_Twit…who would be so careless?_  
The note read: "It's Ready. Divination."  
Ginny followed him as he headed to the staircase. He had to be going to the Divination classroom. Otherwise, there would be no reason for Malfoy to be sneaking in the upper reaches of the castle after hours.  
She made her way up to the Divination Tower slowly, giving him time to move ahead. When she reached the classroom's trap door, she found that he'd somehow managed to pull down the ladder and climb inside.  
It had been almost a year since Madam Trelawney had been removed from her position as Professor of Divination and replaced with Firenze, the Centaur. Rumor had it Dumbledore had kept her around, but her delicate nature, frazzled by the punishment inflicted by Professor Umbridge, had made her unable to take up classes again. But she maintained her home in the Divination Tower, only going out from time to time.  
This must have been one of them.  
The fire in the normally hazy Tower had been snuffed out, and the misty, perfumed smell that typically shrouded the room was gone. Madam Trelawney's teacups were all in a row, however, and her puff cushions, settees and large armchairs neatly cleaned and arranged, as though she were expecting a class tomorrow.  
Draco (bandages conveniently removed) had made his way to the tiny Divination fireplace, discarding the dried herbs that hung there with a distasteful grimace, and grinning as he withdrew a small pouch from beneath his robes. He pulled on the strings with delicate fingers, allowing a thin, sparkling substance to slip into his palm.  
_Floo Powder…_  
"MINISTRY OF…"  
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"  
Malfoy jumped as Ginny slipped out of the shadows, flinging the Floo powder across the fireplace. It exploded in a burst of bright green flame.  
For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy actually appeared speechless. He stared at her in complete surprise.  
"Wha…what are _you_ doing here?"  
"I should ask you the same question, Malfoy! What are you doing up here—with Floo powder? You know that the Floo circuits won't lead into or out of the school unless you have special permission."  
Draco's surprised expression faded back into his customary sneer. "Which as a matter of fact I have, _Weasley._ And where I'm off to is none of your concern."  
She planted her hands on her hips. "If it concerns Hagrid, Harry, Hermione or anyone else I know, it does."  
"What if I told you it doesn't?"  
"Then I'd know you were lying and I'd go to Professor Snape. I bet he'd not be to pleased to find you're sneaking out of school grounds, even if you _are_ his favorite."  
"Professor Snape would not be as concerned as you might think."  
"Fine…Dumbledore then!"  
"Go and tell him!" Draco turned to face her, the simmering green flames casting a haunting shadow across his pale face. "Then he'd have to face up to the fact that Hagrid has a _giant_ hidden in the Forbidden Forest! If nothing else, it would get that great lump dismissed."  
Ginny hesitated, her foot tapping wildly.  
"And what about your friends? Granger will lose her Prefect position. And Potter will bear the guilt of having disappointed two of his friends. Not to mention your brother…"  
"Then why not just go ahead and go to Snape in the first place? You'd get everything you wanted accomplished. Why sneak about?"  
It was Draco's turn to hesitate.  
Realization dawned on Ginny. "You don't want him to know…any of it. What, are you afraid I'm going to tell them you tried to save me?"  
"I…I _didn't save you!"_  
"Yes, yes you did!" she pointed a finger at him. _"YOU_ tried to protect me when I fell." _"I did not!"_  
"Even so, you did save me. You prevented me from being really badly hurt. And you don't want the others to know you did that, do you?"  
Draco gritted his teeth, his gray eyes going wide. "Even if I did, it doesn't matter now. I might not be able to get after Potter or Granger, but that oaf Hagrid and his giant are going to be tossed out of Hogwarts once and for all!" He turned back to the fire, seizing another handful of Floo Powder.  
"Ministry of Magic Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures, Beast…"  
"OH NO YOU DON'T!" Ginny cried, tossing her bag aside and leaping for him.  
"…Di...vee-arhg…ree…uh…rmm--let go, Weasley!"  
She seized at his arm, forcing him to throw the entire handful of Floo Powder into the fireplace. As they struggled, the flames rose to an astonishing height, bursting out of the tiny hearth in an explosion of green, engulfing them completely. With an flurry of shouts, they were pulled inside the grating, and disappeared.   
  
  
"I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS! I CAN'T BLOODY BELIEVE THIS!"  
Harry frowned as Ron paced the length of the Gryffindor common room, and turned to Hermione, who was watching their friend worriedly over her mountain of books. Ron had already chased away most of the Gryffindor students, threatening detention to anyone who appeared cheeky, interrupted his train of thought with their writing, or dared get in the way of his pacing (despite his having paced in places where it was nearly impossible to pace.) Those remaining appeared as though they might pull out their wands should he make any sudden, dangerous moves.  
"Where could she have gone?" Hermione whispered to Harry, as two more first years abandoned their attempts at studying and bolted from the room beneath Ron's dark and terrifying gaze.  
"I haven't the foggiest."  
"THE SECOND NIGHT IN A ROW! WHAT IS SHE THINKING? HAS SHE GONE MAD?"  
The portrait hole flipped open, and Neville Longbottom came in, looking perturbed.  
"Ginny wasn't in the library. And do you want to know something odd? Luna said she saw Ginny trailing Malfoy to the Owlery sometime this afternoon. On top of that, Malfoy wasn't at dinner. And that the Slytherins haven't seen him."  
Ron stopped pacing. "MALFOY?"  
Harry gripped Ron's shoulders as he charged towards Neville. "Calm down, Ron. Neville, did Luna know why Ginny was following Malfoy?"  
Neville, who had been staring at Ron with a pale face, shook his head slowly. "Luna just said she saw them heading up the hallway. First Malfoy, then Ginny. After that, she didn't know where they disappeared to. It was kind of hard to get that out of her, actually…she started talking about the moon-calves that had appeared on the terrace."  
"But isn't Malfoy supposed to be laid up?"  
"That's what Pansy said."  
"MALFOY?" Ron repeated, splotchy red patches blossoming across his face.  
"Now, listen, Ron," said Hermione, rising and placing a hand on Ron's arm. "I'm sure she's fine. We don't know she's with Malfoy."  
Her calm tone seemed to have an effect on him, and Harry released his friend for a moment. "I think we should go have a look around the Owlery. Perhaps it will give us a clue as to where she's been."  
"Not you," Hermione said, as Ron immediately whirled for the portrait hole. "You'll just get upset and attract attention. I can go out after hours, and I'll just explain to anyone coming by that I was taking Harry to the hospital wing because his scar hurt."  
"But…"  
"It's no good, mate. Hermione's right." Harry pushed Ron gently into a nearby armchair. "Besides…Ginny has to have someone here waiting for her when she comes back, right?"  
After a moment, Ron nodded, then turned to the group of students gathered around the hearth. "His scar hurt. Got that?"  
The students nodded, wide-eyed, in unison.  
Harry turned to Neville and sighed. "Keep an eye on him?"  
"Alright."  
"Let's go then," he said to Hermione as they walked out the door, glancing over his shoulder at Ron's periodically twitching form. "The sooner we figure this out, the better."  
  
  
Draco shot out of the fireplace, his robes covered in dust, ash, and some kind of dark green slime that had been present near the bottom of the shaft—something of which he had no desire to find out the origin.  
Weasley had landed beside him, covered in soot, and coughing from the cloud of smoke that had emerged with them. He cast about, searching the surroundings, most of which were shrouded in darkness.  
_"Lumos."_  
The area around the fireplace looked old, and dusty, and was crawling with strange vines.  
_This certainly doesn't look like the Ministry of Magic…_  
As if mirroring his thoughts, Weasley turned to him and heaved a frustrated sigh. "Now where have you got us to?"  
He looked at her in disbelief. "Don't start, Weasley…I had nothing to do with this. You were the one who followed _me."_  
"Well, we're here now…and I'd really like to know where _here_ is."  
She stared at him. Draco crossed his arms and lifted his chin.  
She clenched her fists in anger. "Alright, fine! Just…just give me that Floo powder. I'm going back to Hogwarts."  
"I don't believe so. If you want to find a way back to Hogwarts, then do your best. But this is mine, and I'm using it to get back when I'm finished here."  
Weasley pursed her lips and stared at him. "Is this going to turn into what it was yesterday?" "No, because this time, I'll be petrifying _you._"  
She threw up her hands. "Then I'd really rather put that off until we get back to Hogwarts? If you don't mind? I don't know where we are, I'd very much like to find out before I end up in serious trouble, and I since it appears you've not ended up in your desired destination, either, it seems safe to say that _neither_ of us has time to bother with arguments or dueling right now."  
Draco pursed his lips, thinking. In one aspect, she was right. And he'd really rather not suffer the hassle of another duel. Especially one he might lose.  
Still, her attitude was exactly what he disliked about the entire Weasley family. "Who says I've not ended up where I wanted? I believe I've gotten exactly where I wanted to go—the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Creatures—beast division."  
"Beast division? Why would we be there?"  
"For that giant, you half-wit."  
Weasley flushed red. "For your information, _Malfoy_, a giant is considered a being, not a beast, and would be taken care of under the _Being_ division."  
"Not in my book."  
With that, he turned and strode off, marching through the small door to the right of the hearth.  
To his relief, she followed him out without pulling out her wand. "You're lucky I'm not really in the mood to fight you today," she said, taking in the surroundings. They had come out of a small stone cabin, into what looked like a smaller, less foreboding version of the Forbidden Forest. "And this certainly doesn't look like any Division in the Ministry of Magic I've ever seen."  
"And you would know how?"  
"Because my father _works_ for the Ministry, you prat."  
"Oh, right…that high-level job of his. What does he do again? Fix Muggle toilets?"  
"One of these days, I swear…"  
She didn't have a chance to finish her threat. Something behind them had made her pause. The air around them was cool, but pitch black beyond the small circle of light emitted by Draco's wand.  
And filled with the sounds of low, heavy breathing.  
Ginny turned to glance behind her. "Ummm…what part of the Beast Division did we end up in, exactly?" "Is there more than one part?"  
"Of course. Every division has many sec…tions…" she slid up a bit closer to him as something to her right shifted in the shadows. "But you just said 'beast division' so we should have come down the main floo…right?"  
Draco tried to think of exactly what he'd said. He'd been struggling with Weasley at the time…  
"The Beast Division has…what other areas?"  
"There's the Complaints office, the Sightings office, the Care and Capture facilities…but they're all offices…like Dad's. Nothing like this…"  
"Anything else?"  
"The Vivarium…"  
"The what?"  
"I don't know exactly what it is. Only that Dad's mentioned it once or…" She paused as two shadows soared above them, blotting out the light. Draco craned his neck, taking in the huge, domed ceiling that rose above them. Near its apex, a swarm of bat-like creatures were circling slowly, rotating towards them.  
He turned to her wide-eyed. "What exactly do they keep in this 'vivarium?'"  
"I told you, I'm not sure…only that Dad told Fred and George one time that if they ever wanted to visit, they should be prepared to come out looking less than identical…"  
"I think," Draco flipped around suddenly as another shadow moved, just beyond the circle of light emitted by his wand. "…I think we should probably get back to Hogwarts. I can always come back later."  
Ginny made a face, but nodded, still keeping close to him.  
They marched backwards, away from the moving shadows, towards the small stone cabin, and the dirt path from which they'd come. Draco whirled around to take the last length of the hill, and stopped dead.  
Settled on the ground before them, blocking their way, was a huge, furry beast, its lion's body curled in front of the doorway, a great, spine-tipped tail whipping softly beside it. Within the folds of the great mane, Draco could make out what appeared to be a human face…  
The creature tilted its face to the side, watching them, tail flicking.  
Ginny grasped his shoulder, shaking him. "A manticore. It's a manticore!"  
"Quite right," the creature replied with a smile.   
  
  
Harry stroked Hedwig softly, glancing about as Hermione scoured the Owlery one last time. They had searched for over fifteen minutes, looking for any sign that might lead to Ginny's whereabouts, but found nothing. Harry had even tried approaching the Malfoy's gray eagle-owl, but had his hand pecked so severely that Hermione had to wrap it in her handkerchief.  
"Nothing. We have absolutely no idea where she might have gone."  
"We're doing no good hanging about here. We might as well get back to the Common Room. Ron will be worried."  
"I just wish Ginny had told me what she was doing, following Malfoy up here. I know she was afraid he might go against his word, but she also told me that he'd promised he would not say anything to anyone. Not even the Slytherins."  
"And you and Ginny believed him?"  
"Of course not! But Ginny had enough against him to almost assure he wouldn't say anything…"  
Harry eyed her suspiciously, but decided not to press her.  
They'd almost made their way back to the Common Room when a bright burst of light exploded in their path, startling Harry into a statue of arms—which shoved him rather rudely back with a stream of impolite, if unnecessary, curses.  
Hermione, who'd skittered behind a drapery, peeped out at the small figure that was standing in front of them, hands clasped in apology.  
"DOBBY!"  
"Mister Harry Potter sir, Miss Prefect, Dobby is sorry to have startled you. He will not wear his second-favorite socks tonight. But Dobby has important information for Mister Harry Potter to hear."  
"How are you, Dobby? And how is Winky?"  
"Winky is very bad, Miss, Winky is missing her master still, even though the great Dumbledore has explained to Winky that her master was a bad man. We all fear for Winky, Miss."  
"And the other House Elves…are they enjoying their freedom?"  
Dobby glanced over at Harry with trepidation; Hermione still did not know that it was Dobby who'd been taking her carefully knitted hats and scarves.  
"Dobby," Harry said, interrupting before Dobby was forced to answer, "what is this information you wanted me to hear?"  
"Dobby has been told what you are looking for, sir, and Dobby believes he can help Mister Harry Potter to find it."  
"Ginny?"  
"The Miss Prefect Weezy, sir, and the…the…" Dobby gulped. "The former Master's son, sir. The Young Master Draco."  
"Please don't call him _that_, Dobby," Hermione chided. "You're no longer in service to the Malfoys."  
"Dobby knows, miss. But after many years of serving a master, it is difficult."  
"Well, it should not be…you no longer have to feel obligated to anyone, especially not…"  
"_Hermione,_" Harry sighed. "Dobby, what do you know about Ginny and Malfoy?"  
"Sir, one of the upper level House Elves saw them arguing in the room of the Divinations, sir. In front of the fireplace, sir. And then, there was a great burst of Green, and smoke, and the Young Master and Miss Weezy were then gone, sir."  
Hermione looked puzzled for a moment. "It sounds like the Floo network. But that isn't possible! No student can access the Floo network from a classroom."  
"The House Elf also found this, miss, in the room."  
He snapped his fingers, and Ginny's bookbag appeared next to him. "Miss Weezy left it behind her, sir."  
"Do you have any idea where they might have gone, Dobby?" asked Harry.  
"No, sir, Dobby does not, and the House Elf could not hear what they were arguing about. I am sorry, sir, that Dobby could not help you or you friend Weezy any further tonight."  
"Thank you, Dobby…you've been more than helpful."  
"Dobby thanks you, Mister Harry Potter sir, every single day. For saving Dobby."  
Harry blushed. "You don't have to, Dobby."  
"Good night, sir, miss. And good luck in finding your Miss Weezy sir. And the Young Master, if you should so wish it."  
With a small **pop!** he disappeared.  
"I wouldn't wish it," muttered Harry. "But I suppose we'll have to…"  
"Or maybe not." Hermione, who'd been searching through Ginny's bag, held up a small piece of paper:  
_It's ready. Divination._  
"This looks small enough to come by owl, doesn't it?"  
Harry watched her, puzzled, as she began to pace back and forth. "She followed him up to the Owlery and saw him get this message. Somehow, he must have dropped it behind him, so she knew to go to the Divination room. She followed him."  
"But why? What does "it's ready" mean?"  
Hermione snapped her fingers. "It _has_ to be the Floo network. Dobby said that the House Elf saw a flash of bright green light. We all know that there are green flames when the Floo network is activated."  
"But it's like you said…no student can use the Floo network to get outside of Hogwarts unless they are using a specially observed fireplace. And there are none like that in the classrooms."  
"Right! But Malfoy got this—" she held up the piece of paper, "—right before he went to the classrooms. If we've assumed correctly, then he's sent a notice to _someone_ to open up a Floo conduit to one of the classrooms. The Divination classroom—he knew Trelawney probably wouldn't be there."  
"But…to do that you'd have to know someone at the Ministry—I doubt Malfoy goes about cavorting with Floo Network Department heads."  
"No…but his father did…which means his mother did. And having an aunt like Bellatrix Lestrange loose probably helps a bit…"  
She clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm such an…oh, Harry…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…"  
"It's alright, Hermione," he said, and turned down the hall, trying to ignore her expression. "Let's just get back to Gryffindor."  
He no longer felt the rush of anger, or bitterness, at the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange. Even the rage had somewhat disappeared, though he would always hold a part of that hatred in him for all of Voldemort's servants. All he felt now was an emptiness—an incredible sadness, at the thought of Sirius gone…no longer here to help him, or give him advice, or make him laugh with stories of his parents.  
It was like losing his family all over again, every time he thought about it.  
Which he tried very hard not to do.  
Hermione remained still for a moment, then shuffled quickly to his side. "Harry…"  
"It's _alright._"  
"I know. But if ever it isn't…"  
He glanced over at her face, her eyes shining with tears. It had taken a long time to finally understand that his friends, though incapable of feeling what _he_ felt, suffered almost as much as he did—just in different ways. He was glad, now, that she felt sympathy for him. He didn't feel quite so alone. "What should we tell Ron…about Ginny?"  
She frowned for a moment at his avoiding the subject, but shook her head. "I don't think we should tell him what we suspect. Let's put off Gryffindor for just a moment and go take a look at the Divination classroom to see if we can find anything else. Then, we'll decide."   
  
  
A search of the hearth in Madam Trelawney's classroom turned up exactly what Harry knew Hermione suspected they would find…a liberal amount of Floo powder, tossed haphazardly about, and a set of discarded bandages, which Malfoy must have used on his head  
"So they _have_ gone off school grounds…but where? Why would Malfoy sneak about like this? All he'd have to do is tell someone what happened with Grawp!"  
Harry shook his head, glancing about the now empty classroom. And shuddered. "Maybe he didn't want to say anything—then he'd have to admit that he made a promise to Ginny."  
"What about going to Dumbledore? Or Snape?"  
"I'm not sure," Harry shrugged. "None of this makes sense to me. It seems like an awful lot of trouble just to get us caught."  
"Would he be afraid that Dumbledore wouldn't believe him?"  
"No." Harry stood. "He knows Dumbledore is more liberally minded than other wizards, but I think he also knows Dumbledore would listen to anyone—even Malfoy. But if he told Dumbledore about us and Grawp…"  
He stopped, gazing through one of the gauzy curtains at the Forbidden Forest.  
"Not us. _Grawp._"  
"What do you mean?"  
"Draco must be beholden to Ginny for some reason, and if he tells on us, then she'll go after him in a way he doesn't want to deal with. But he doesn't have to tell on _us_ to tell about Grawp."  
Hermione's eyes grew round again. "He's going to report Hagrid! Oh goodness, if he even mentions the word "giant" the Ministry of Magic will be here in a moment's notice! Hagrid will be sent to Azkaban again!" "But where would he go? Who would he choose to tell?"  
"He could tell anyone! Someone at the Daily Prophet, anyone at M.O.M…all he'd have to do is find someone with some kind of authority and there would be an investigation immediately! A wild giant in England would certainly get the wizarding authorities interested—especially since Hagrid has a prior record…you know, Buckbeak and all."  
Harry plopped into one of the overstuffed armchairs. "So what do we do now? He could be anywhere."  
Hermione poked at the fireplace with her wand, and tossed some of the discarded Floo Powder onto it. "Gryffindor."  
The powder sparkled, but didn't emit any kind of flame.  
"This one's been disconnected. It was probably only opened for a short while. But all Malfoy'd have to do is go back to his home and get it re-opened again…maybe even get the one in Slytherin opened, like…" she stopped.  
Harry frowned. "Like Sirius did in Gryffindor."  
He turned away from her saddened face. "We'd better go down and tell Ron what's happened." He rose.  
"What about Ginny?"  
"There is nothing we can do, for now, until we find out where they've gone."  
Hermione started to protest, but he placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm as worried about Ginny as you, but we have to hope that she'll be able to handle Malfoy. If she doesn't, then Hagrid might well end up like Malfoy's father, and Grawp will most certainly be destroyed. We have to trust in Ginny—and have faith that she's capable of taking care of herself."   
  
  
"Do _something_!" Weasley muttered, shying behind him.  
Draco's hand trembled as he pulled out his wand. "Like what? Any suggestions?"  
"I wish Harry and Hermione were here."  
"They couldn't even stop a giant! What makes you think they can stop a creature that is supposedly unenchantable?"  
"_Is_ unenchantable," replied the manticore, rising slowly. "There is no spell that can harm me. I'm undefeatable."  
It circled around them, taking in their black robes and crests. "Hmmm…Hogwarts students. You should have know that, given your ages. Or are you not doing so well in classes?"  
"We're _prefects_, I'll thank you to know. And I received almost all O's on my O.W.L.S's."  
"That's good. At least they'll remember you for something."  
"What exactly does _that_ mean?"  
"Well, you _are_ prefects, after all. What do you _think_ it means?"  
Weasley began to tremble as the manticore passed behind them, a wicked grin on its face.  
"Are you giving out on me now, _Weasley_?" Draco hissed, craning his neck to keep focus on the manticore and trying as best he could to steady his wand.  
She shook her head, eyes on the beast's furry form, and slowly reached for her wand.  
"That will do you no good. As we've discussed before—I'm unenchantable. You might as well give up quickly. It will make death easier for you."  
Draco sneered at it. "Death should never be easy. Not if you're determined to live."  
Weasley stopped trembling, and stared at him for a moment. The manticore chuckled. "You must be a Slytherin, then. And you," he motioned to Weasley with his tail, "given that you're trying to be brave—are most certainly a Gryffindor. Odd, that you should be together." "It wasn't by choice," she huffed.  
"_Everything_ is by choice, whether you like or dislike the outcome. You might not have decided all of what was going to occur—but you chose your own fate, for better or worse. For worse, it would appear."  
"Perhaps…" Draco had been staring at the dim specks of light shining from the sheltered dome above. "And perhaps its just a matter of design. No one chooses to make the sun set. Or, to rise, for that matter." He glanced over at Ginny knowingly, who caught his meaning, and shut her eyes.  
He closed his eyes, raising his wand in the air. "_Lumos solem_!"  
The dome exploded with a brightness equivalent to that of the noon-day sun. Around them, the creatures screamed in fright; padded footsteps, hooves, and wings storming through the habitat in reaction to the immense brilliance.  
The manticore screeched, and Draco took the opportunity to snatch up Ginny's hand and begin a haphazard run through the complex. The light blurred his vision, and he could not see where he was going—only that he was running away from the manticore.  
They stumbled across rocks, using a semi-sight to avoid trees and branches, and splashing across what felt like a tiny brook. Twice he slipped on some unseen substance, but Ginny had pulled him to his feet and pushed him forward.  
The light began to fade as their vision cleared; they were in a deeper part of the Vivarium now, surrounded by craggy cliff faces and mossy, brown bogs.  
"Do you think that manticore followed us?" whispered Ginny.  
"If his eyes are like a human's, hopefully not. He'll be seeing spots for a week."  
"Still…don't you think it would be safer to get someplace where it can't reach us?"  
"What would be safer would be to find a way _out_."  
"I _know_ that. But I don't exactly see a doorway around here."  
"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed!"  
"Shut up, Malfoy! I wasn't the one who got us flooed in here in the first place!"  
"Well I certainly didn't intend to say "Vivarium", so I think I can safely say that you _helped out a bit_!"  
"You pea-brained, half-witted…"  
"Prat?" he sneered. "You've already mentioned that. Can't you be more creative?"  
She froze, glaring at him, her fists clenched by her sides. "You are the most infuriating, ungracious, evil little git I've ever known!"  
With that, she turned and started to march away.  
Draco watched her in confusion. "Just a minute…where are you going?"  
"To find a way _out_. On MY OWN!"  
"You're going to get yourself killed."  
"So?" she turned her head, but continued marching. "Why should you care?"  
He stuttered for a moment. "I…I _don't_ care. But two wands are better than one, and I want to get out of here completely intact…as, I believe, do you."  
"Enough to consider helping out a Malfoy? I thank you, but _NO_. I'll take my chances on my own."  
"Do you think I want to be associated in any way with a Weasley? But if we don't work together, chances are neither of us will survive this. Do you think your mother will care as much about your working with a Malfoy as dying in this cage?"  
She didn't stop.  
"Bloody Hell!" Draco yelled. "I need your help—I can't do this by myself."  
She paused mid-stride.  
"And you are a pretty good witch. For a _Weasley._"  
"And you're not a bad wizard," she turned back around, crossing her arms. "For a Malfoy, you're actually somewhat smart.  
"But…if we are going to work together in this," she came up to him until they were toe-to-toe, "then I want a promise from you. I won't say _anything_ about what happened in the Forbidden Forest—or here, if we make it out—if you promise not to say anything about Grawp. To _anyone_."  
He clenched his teeth.  
"Promise me.  
_"Malfoy…"_  
"Fine. Agreed. Can we get on with this business, then? The sooner we get out of here, and I away from you, the better."  
"Agreed—on counts one and two." She held up her wand. "But for now, a truce."  
He narrowed his eyes, but crossed his wand with hers. "Truce."   
  
  
Harry was certain they'd spend half the night trying to pacify Ron, but to his surprise, his friend listened to their story with relative calm. He remained in one of the empty common room's armchairs until Hermione had finished.  
"That's all we can suspect, for now. They've gone somewhere, but we haven't the foggiest as to where that might be."  
"But we do know that Ginny can take care of herself. She'll be fine, mate, I'm sure."  
"It's no good," said Ron, rising. "We have to go after her."  
Hermione turned to Harry. They'd expected he'd say something like this—after the ranting. "I wish we could, Ron, but we just can't. We wouldn't even begin to know where to look."  
"Well, we have to _try_, don't we? We can leave Ginny all by herself—especially not with Malfoy! There's no telling what he might try and do."  
"Ron…we…we just don't know how! We tried…Harry and I tried to think of everything we might be able to do, or where we might be able to go."  
"Oh you did, did you? You two certainly can put your heads together when it _counts_."  
Hermione looked as though she'd been slapped.  
"That was unfair and unnecessary. Hermione is just trying to help. And she's right, you know. We _did_ try and think of everything. But what we came up with always ended with _someone_ finding out about Hagrid and Grawp."  
"Then maybe we have no other choice! This is my _sister_ we're talking about!"  
"And Grawp is Hagrid's brother," said Hermione coolly.  
"What's _that_ supposed to mean?"  
"Nothing. Other than you think that Ginny's life is worth more than Grawp's. We don't even know if Ginny is in danger. But if someone discovers Grawp, then he will most certainly be killed."  
"But he's a _giant_."  
"So?" Hermione rose from her armchair. "Why does that make him amount to less than Ginny?"  
"_Because_…" Ron said, rising to face her, "Ginny is my _sister_. And she's been with me my _whole_ life, and she's _human_!"  
"And that makes Grawp's relationship with Hagrid worth nothing at all?"  
"_That's ENOUGH!_" Harry cried, glaring at the both of them. "Arguing amongst ourselves isn't going to get Ginny back, or protect Grawp. What's more important here is trying to save as many as we can, not who's most important. For now," he turned to Ron, "we don't know that Ginny's in danger. But we know that Grawp is. However," he glanced over at Hermione, "that doesn't mean we don't go about trying to find Ginny as soon as possible."  
"And how do we go about doing that?"  
"We'll use our connections." Harry said. "That's our safest road, for now. Does your family still have their family clock on the wall at the Burrow?"  
Ron looked at him confusedly. "Yes…"  
"Then write out a note for Hedwig to give to Fred and George. They'll understand about the situation. We'll have them visit your Mum tomorrow for breakfast, and check the clock. If Ginny and Malfoy are anywhere in the wizarding world, that clock should give us a good idea as to where."  
"Okay." Ron moved to one of the tables and began scribbling.  
"We won't tell Dumbledore about Malfoy and Ginny until they've been gone for at least a day. And we won't mention Grawp unless we absolutely _have_ to."  
"And what happens if we have to?" asked Hermione.  
"Then we have to. We have no choice. But believe me," he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll do the best we can before we get to that point. We'll search all of London, if we must."  
Ron returned with a short note, addressed to Fred and George's Joke Shop in Diagon Alley. Harry handed it to Hermione. "Take it to the Owlery, and tell Hedwig to be quick." She nodded.  
"Don't worry, mate. Everything will be fine. Just try and stay calm. Ginny's gotten out of dangerous situations before. And Malfoy's no different."  
"I know," said Ron, watching as a stoic Hermione left through the portrait hole. "I just hope Malfoy realizes the trouble he's going to be in if he lays even a finger on her. If anything happens to her, I swear…"  
"Nothing is going to happen to her. Let's just wait and see what Fred and George have to say. Now come on. We'll have to think of a good reason why your sister isn't in class tomorrow."  
  
  
"Whoever designed this should talk to Fred and George. He could give them a few pointers on how to create a realistic swamp," Ginny remarked, pushing through the muck and trying to keep her robes out of the dark brown slime.  
So far, they'd not had anymore life-threatening encounters. Twice, Draco had had to zap a hinkypunk as it had fluttered in their faces, and Ginny had her shot at a grindylow who'd sunk his long claws into Draco's robe, but nothing else threatened to tear them apart or drag them under the thick, ooze filled swamps.  
The land in front of them was growing firmer; the few Dugbogs they saw were floating in a small group away from what appeared to be a shoreline. Draco breathed a sigh of relief as the scenery became more of an open grass plain, sparsely covered with trees.  
"How big is this place?"  
Ginny shrugged. "Like I said, my dad didn't say anything about it."  
Draco could still see the domed ceiling high above, but the darkness that had covered them before was slowly dissipating in favor of a sunrise-like coloring to the sky. They'd been walking forever, or so it seemed.  
"Are those…mountains?"  
He followed to where she was pointing; in the distance, it did appear that snow-capped mountains rose over the savannah. She was gazing around in wonder. "This place has to be enchanted. There must be every habitat known to man in here."  
"This is ridiculous. We are _never_ going to find our way out of here."  
"I'm sure there is more than one house in this place. How else would the wizards be able to get in and out?"  
"They can apparate, genius."  
"Not _all_ of them can. Some people failed that test, you know. What I'm surprised at is that no one has noticed we're here. Surely they've got people monitoring this place."  
"Where should we go from here, then?"  
Ginny glanced from side to side. "There's a jungle over there…" she pointed to the right, "and what looks like a lake and trees over to the left."  
From somewhere within the jungle, a thick, heady roar echoed. In its wake, leaves shriveled brown, withered, and fell to the ground, leaving an open path.  
"Nundu…" Ginny whispered.  
"I think we should probably go this way," said Draco, clasping her shoulder and pushing her to the left.  
By the time they'd reached the lakeshore, they'd seen three runespoor, a diricawl right before it disappeared, and run away from something that looked suspiciously like a Quintaped, though Draco had assured Ginny that they were pinioned on the northern Isle of Drear.  
"At least we'll have something interesting to talk about in Care of Magical creatures!" she mused.  
"The only thing that would interest that half-wit professor would be the nundu. He'd probably come over and try to keep it as a pet!"  
"Why do you hate Hagrid so much? I know he's a half-giant and all…but he's really a nice guy."  
Draco stared at her. "_Why?_"  
"Yes, why?"  
"Because! He does _everything_ that Potter wants him to do. _Everything_. He favors Potter and the Gryffindors above everybody else."  
"So, Snape does that with the Slytherins."  
"And do you like Snape?"  
Ginny thought for a moment. "Not particularly."  
"There you are, then."  
They'd walked onto a sandy shoreline. Ahead of them, a small cabin rose in the distance, nestled in a patch of trees.   
_Finally…a way out._  
"Why?"  
Draco stopped, turning to face Ginny, who'd paused a few feet behind him. "Why what?"  
"I mean really—why _didn't_ you tell someone about Grawp when you first went back? You didn't have to keep my promise. You knew I wouldn't hold up to it…at least not the attack part. And no one would believe that you'd saved me, even if you did. So why go through all of this trouble, just to report Grawp?"  
Draco was silent for a moment. She watched him, truly interested, this time, in what he had to say. "It wasn't that I was afraid of you…it was…having the others know that I had been alone…with you. Been defeated by you…by a _Weasley_. I didn't want them to know that. Potter is one thing. Your family is an entirely different matter. So I didn't tell them. Or Snape."  
"But _why_ would it matter so much?" She came towards him, arms crossed. "The Slytherins hate Harry and Hermione. And my family. They wouldn't care about our being stuck together as much as the chance to get us all into trouble. Including Hagrid."  
"I know that. But my family would care. My father would care. And one of the Slytherins would be sure to let them know, even if I didn't. And I'd never be forgiven."  
"Does your family hate us that much? That they'd cause you to risk your life—or your position at Hogwarts—just to avoid associating with the Weasleys?"  
He looked over at her. "Yes."  
She looked slightly ruffled for a moment. "So what? You aren't defined by your family—or your father."  
"Oh, of course I'm _not_…just like you aren't defined by your family—_Weasley_."  
She laughed. "Maybe in your eyes, but I don't think so. I may be a Weasley, but I'm _Ginny_ Weasley first and foremost. I make sure people know that. Why do you think Ron has such a hard time? He doesn't quite understand, yet, that he _can_ be something other than what he feels he owes to his family. We might all look the same, but we're all different. Just like you are not your father."  
"I'm _exactly_ like my father. And I'm proud of that."  
"Really? Exactly like him? Have you murdered anybody, then?"  
Draco stared at her in shock. "No."  
"Then you are not your father. Not _yet_. Even if you wished it on someone, you've not actually killed a living person. You haven't become him. Hopefully you won't be."  
"But I _want_ to be…just like him." He rose to his full height. "It would be an honor." "No. It wouldn't. It would be a damn shame. For your sake, Draco Malfoy, I hope that never happens."  
He gaped at her as she marched past him, down the edge of the lake. A whirl of confused thoughts flitted through his mind.  
_It would be a damn shame…_  
His heart had lightened, somewhat, when she'd told him he wasn't his father. And that she didn't want him to be. No one else had ever told him that.  
_But she's a Weasley!_  
Up ahead, the tiny cabin bordered a small glade of trees, which extended into an old-growth forest beyond. The door was shuttered tight, but Ginny had managed to pry it open with a few well-placed spells.  
As Draco had suspected, there was a fireplace inside.  
Ginny moved eagerly inside. "I hope it works."  
Draco came up beside her, and pulled the pouch out of his robes. He passed it back and forth in his hands as she watched him, her smile at finding the exit slowly fading.  
"Give me the Floo Powder, Malfoy."  
_She's a WEASLEY._  
"I don't think so. We're doing things _my_ way, this time." He dangled the bag in front of her. There was a struggle within himself as he watched her eyes, flashing anger, then betrayal.  
He swallowed, and tried to remember how he'd felt the night before, prostrate on his knees, screaming at the nighttime shadows. "What were the terms of our agreement again?"  
"Give it to me!" Ginny cried, trying to snatch the Floo powder out of Malfoy's hand. "They're the same as they always were."  
"I don't think so. Unless you want to remain here in this place, trying to find a _door._"  
Ginny's face flushed as red as her hair, and she reached up the length of him, trying to snatch at the powder he held just out of her reach (with some difficulty, since she was almost as tall as he was). "If I have to hex you, Malfoy, I swear I will!"  
"I'd like to see you try!"  
"Me, too."  
They stopped mid-struggle, turning to the voice in the doorway.  
In the shadow of the frame, a large, furry shape was crouched in attack position, a human-like face peering at them beneath darkly narrowed eyebrows.  
"Let's try this again, shall we?"  
Without another word, the manticore sprang.  
  
  
  
  
***Uh oh! What are Draco and Ginny going to do to get out of this one? The next adventure promises a visit to Malfoy Manor and the return of one of the vilest and most despised characters in the Harry Potter canon—along with some more of the trio, trying to figure this out! Will Draco and Ginny be able to get back to Hogwarts intact??***  
  
Thanks so much to Spinn, frodobaggins07, Vix17, seekerpeeker, lady of scarlet darkness, Jonah, and Joya, (and those of you off network) for reviewing my first chapter. Your reviews really kept me on a writing streak!  



	3. In the Halls of Malfoy Manor

**In the Shadows: A Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts)**   
  
  
**In the Halls of Malfoy Manor**   
  
  
  
  
  
  
"MOVE!"   
  
  
Draco shoved Ginny away from him as the creature leapt forward. He barely managed to scramble backwards, away from the manticore's large, lion-like body, which landed where they had been. Ginny's trembling form was just to the other side of it, edging towards the door.   
  
He scrambled to his feet, away from the creature, distracting its gaze. Although the manticore's head followed him, its large, spine tipped tail crashed down in the opposite direction, into the wall next to Ginny's head.   
  
"Run!" he cried, and she slid out from underneath the pinioned tail to the entrance.   
  
The manticore swung its large paws at Draco, snarling. He edged up against the wall, the sharp claws just missing the front of his robes.   
  
Ginny had made it outside, but she was watching in horror as Draco struggled to get away from the manticore. The great beast ripped its tail out of the wall with an angry cry, and turned to face him.   
  
"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" he heard her cry.   
  
_What is she doing?_ Draco thought frantically. _Charms don't WORK! _   
  
A small table, which had been settled in the far corner of the cabin, levitated in front of the manticore; with a slash Ginny sent it shooting forward into the creature's head.   
  
The manticore howled in pain, one large paw rising to its human face. Blood poured between its claws. Draco cast about, looking for some way out of the cabin.   
  
Over to his right, the pathway to the fireplace was clear. He still held the Floo Powder in his hand.   
  
_Just one good leap…that's all it would take. I'd be home in an instant. _   
  
Ginny was outside, motioning him to hurry. He watched her as she eyed the manticore, an anxious expression on her face.   
  
He gritted his teeth, stuffed the powder into his shirt, and dodged around the creature, heading for the door.   
  
The manticore was ready for him, this time.   
  
He screamed as the manticore's long claws sunk into his chest, batting him backwards with incredible force. He slammed up against the walls, rattling the timbers, his head cracking against the hard wood.   
  
Spots danced in front of his eyes, blurring the image of the beast, who placed a massive paw upon his aching chest. Its face was a mess of dried blood and dirt.   
  
"This has gone on long enough."   
  
Draco stared at the beast fiercely. It grinned at him, fanglike teeth baring from beneath the human lips.   
  
Then, suddenly, it was jerked from behind.   
  
Ginny had its tail grasped firmly between her two hands, her palms only inches away from its poison stinger. She braced against the wooden frame of the doorway.   
  
"What are you doing?" Draco yelled.   
  
"You are a pest and an annoyance!" the creature growled, snapping its tail in fury. Ginny's arms jerked forward and she yelped, tripping forward into the cabin. Sprawled on the floor, she could only look up helplessly as the manticore raised its tail, striking down towards her.   
  
_"EXPELLIARMUS!" _   
  
A shower of silver and green sparks burst from Draco's wand and slammed into Ginny, propelling her toward the cabin door. Her head slammed into the frame, her body whipping about, and she lay, motionless, just beyond the reach of the manticore's tail.   
  
Draco watched her unmoving body in horror.   
  
The manticore laughed. "My way would have been much more painless and certainly less messy. But as you've killed her for me, at least now all I have to deal with is you."   
  
Draco rose to his feet unsteadily, wincing in pain from the tears across his chest and stomach. He backed away and raised his wand.   
  
"Then come and get me."   
  
The beast narrowed its eyes, sat back on its haunches, and sprung towards him.   
  
_"CRUCIO!" _   
  
All of the anger, the pain, the hatred…all of the emotion he'd felt from the night before, and the sharp, unnerving ache he couldn't suppress at the sight of Ginny's crumpled body in the doorway…all of it channeled into the strength of his curse.   
  
The spell hit the great creature full force; it fell to the ground, writhing in agony.   
  
"No charm can touch you?" Draco's face twisted in hatred, and the creature continued to screech, its cries growing more high-pitched by the moment. "It appears this one can."   
  
"Please," it screamed. _"Please!" _   
  
The spell's intensity increased.   
  
"Malfoy…"   
  
_"But as you've killed her for me…"_   
  
"Draco."   
  
Draco glanced up, surprised. Ginny stood in the doorway, hanging by the doorframe and wobbling unsteadily on her feet.   
  
"Stop."   
  
The power faded from Draco's wand.   
  
The manticore collapsed, its body tremoring from the attack. With a whimper it settled to the ground.   
  
Ginny moved over beside him, placing one hand on his wand. "Even if it did attack us…it's still a living creature. It doesn't deserve this."   
  
"Doesn't deserve this?" he spluttered. "It…it tried to kill us both."   
  
"Nothing deserves to die like that. Except maybe Voldemort."   
  
"I was not going to kill it. I didn't even know if the curse would work."   
  
"But it did."   
  
Her face looked so sorrowful, he had to turn away.   
  
"I know how to use the Forbidden curses. That is something I was taught long ago. What's wrong with it?"   
  
Ginny half-smiled, but her face was still mournful as she glanced down at the Manticore, which lay completely still. "Besides the fact that they are Forbidden?"   
  
Draco shook his head. No matter what the situation, she always managed to make him feel guilty, somehow, at being who he was. "That has been a tradition passed down in the Malfoy family for generations. We learn all of the Dark Arts—and all the countercurses to defend against them. In a way, it protects us, and defines us."   
  
Her earlier words rang in his ears, even as he spoke his last ones. _You are not your father…yet…_   
  
Ginny didn't respond   
  
Draco removed the Floo powder. For some reason, he didn't feel like arguing with her anymore. "We should get back, before that thing regains its strength."   
  
"Then let's go. All I want to do is get back to Hogwarts."   
  
"We cannot go to Hogwarts," Draco said. "The Floo's been closed."   
  
"How were you expecting to get back, then?" Ginny said.   
  
"I was going to return home. My mother can speak with the person at the Ministry who can reopen the Floo Network into Hogwarts."   
  
"Absolutely not!" Ginny cried, then staggered. She leaned back against the wall for support. Her voice was much quieter than before. "I'm not going to Malfoy Manor."   
  
"What are you going to do then? Sit around here and wait until someone finds you? There's just enough powder for both of us to make a joint trip."   
  
"My father always says that if there is enough for two in one, then there's enough for two in two."   
  
"Do you want to test his wisdom?" Draco shook the bag in front of her, where less than a handful of the sparkling green dust remained. "You want to chance one of us getting stuck out here, in we don't even know where, _hoping_ the other will be able to find us again? Because if that is the case, you can wait on me. With that." He gestured to the manticore.   
  
Ginny eyed the scant portion, and sighed. "Alright then. You can come home with me…to the Burrow."   
  
Draco snorted. "To your home? What will we do there? Fling about the garden gnomes while that half-dead bird of yours tries to notify Hogwarts in _less_ than a year?"   
  
Ginny's face turned as red as her hair. "After what you told me about your family, what makes you think I'll be safe? I might as well stay with the Manticore."   
  
"As _you_ have been so quick to point out, my father's gone. And my mother's not like him," he retorted, "at least not directly, if that's what you're afraid of."   
  
"Among other things. I've seen firsthand what your family is capable of."   
  
Draco placed a hand to his head in frustration. "Look! Gin—Weasley, nothing is going to happen to you over there. I promise."   
  
"And I should trust you…why?"   
  
"Because I owe you," Draco huffed, then winced. When he raised his hand, there was blood staining it. "I owe you my life—the least I can do is offer you some protection."   
  
"Your life?"   
  
He gestured to the manticore. "If you hadn't grabbed it, it would have killed me."   
  
She looked slightly taken aback. "You didn't abandon me either. I know you could have escaped, earlier."   
  
Draco felt his cheeks flush. "We've already called a truce. We can just extend it a bit."   
  
Her eyebrow raised. "You went back on the truce—with the Floo powder."   
  
Another flush, this time, of shame. "I can guarantee my word." He removed his Prefect's badge from his robes, gritting his teeth as another wave of pain burned through his body, and slid it into her hand.   
  
"Your Prefect's badge? Why…why should I trust this?" she was starting to gasp, and her face looked pale.   
  
He stared at her for a moment, his gray eyes somber. "Because it's the only thing I've ever earned of which my father was proud. There's no way to distinguish who's top when Dumbledore awards a Prefect position. All my father knew was that I was one of the best…as good as Granger—and better than Potter. And that, for once, was enough."   
  
Ginny's hand closed about the badge, and she lowered her head for a moment before nodding. "Very well. To Malfoy Manor it is."   
  
He stepped into the fireplace. She moved unsteadily from the wall, wobbling a bit, and stood next to him, using his shoulder for support. He dropped the powder into the grating.   
  
"Malfoy Manor."   
  
In a flash, they were gone.   
  
  
  
  
  
The Divination classroom was empty of students, as Harry knew it would be.   
  
He, Ron and Hermione had agreed that a letter to Fred and George would probably be safest. Having the twins drop in on the Burrow wouldn't be too surprising for Mrs. Weasley, and would allow one of the two of them to spy on the Weasley's enchanted clock for Ginny's whereabouts.   
  
He only hoped Mrs. Weasley hadn't noticed.   
  
Hermione had sent the letter with Hedwig the evening before, looking a little sad when she returned from the Owlery. She'd avoided Ron's eye the rest of the evening, and the three of them had gone to bed with hardly a word. Ron's snores, which Hermione had imitated so well the night before, were absent.   
  
The next morning, they'd gotten a note telling them to be in the Divination classroom around 9 o'clock. Ron seemed to have cooled off slightly, and he was at least civil to Hermione again.   
  
"They'd better be quick," Hermione huffed as they sat in front of the fireplace, waiting. "I've got Advanced Arithmancy in half an hour!"   
  
Harry and Ron both ignored her.   
  
Harry hadn't thought to ask how the twins had managed to find a Floo into Hogwarts, but he knew better than to inquire, given their connections (Mrs. Weasley still had a sinking suspicion about their being involved in Mundungus Fletcher's latest scheme.) But somehow, they'd managed it, because a few moments later the fireplace roared to life, and a red head popped up in the green flames—and then another. Hermione leapt back from where she'd been sitting as Harry and Ron moved forward, greeting the twins.   
  
"I'll never get used to that," she muttered.   
  
"Hiya Harry, Ron, Hermione," said Fred.   
  
"Hiya Hermione, Ron, Harry," said George.   
  
"Did you find anything?" Ron asked eagerly.   
  
"We checked on the clock at home. Ginny's at the Ministry of Magic."   
  
"WHAT?"   
  
George shrugged, or at least would have if he'd had shoulders. "That's what the clock said. At least in the beginning. Then the hand went to "Mortal Peril," which worried us a bit, then then it went to "traveling, then, it rejoined Dad's at Work." So she's at the Ministry, somewhere. And she was in Mortal Peril--though she isn't now."   
  
"Mortal Peril?" Ron squeaked.   
  
"The Ministry...what would Malfoy be doing there?" Harry wondered aloud.   
  
"Well—the Department of Magical Creatures is there, of course," returned Hermione. " What else would he be doing but reporting on Hagrid and Grawp?"   
  
"For twelve _hours? _" Fred scoffed.   
  
Hermione chose to ignore that. "Did Mrs. Weasley notice anything?"   
  
"Well, she did seem to think it a little strange that we'd come home. But we just told her we missed her cooking—'s hard to get a square meal in Diagon Alley—and she started crying and hugged us a lot and fed us three servings of breakfast. But I don't think she noticed the clock."   
  
"She's been a bit busy, you know, with the Order of the Phoenix, and all. Still won't tell us what she's about with it, but she's not at home as much anymore."   
  
"Anyways, we enchanted it so that it looks like Ginny's at Hogwarts, with Ron."   
  
"Thanks," said Harry. "That will make things a lot easier."   
  
"What's Ginny up to, anyhow?" asked George. Harry, Ron and Hermione had agreed not to let the twins know any of the events that had occurred in the Dark Forest, or about the agreement she'd seemed to make with Malfoy.   
  
"That's what we'd like to know," said Harry. "We haven't the foggiest what she might be doing with Malfoy. Keeping an eye on him, we hope. But we just want to make sure she's safe and all."   
  
"She's with _Malfoy_—how safe can she be?" said Fred.   
  
"That's what I said!" Ron cried, throwing his hands up. "See, Hermione? Mortal Peril!"   
  
Hermione looked at him curtly, but chose not to respond. "Is there any way for you to check and see where Ginny might be at the Ministry?"   
  
"Well, we might, but we're rather unpopular at the Ministry right now. The Magical Altering Ink we created was a big hit in the secretarial pools, and from what I understand a few bottles got mixed up and it caused a lot of memos and documents and such to get switched…"   
  
"…and a lot of false laws to get proposed. And a few passed. Seems we must all submit five forms of identification to enter a Chudley Cannons Quidditch match."   
  
"And Halloween's become a "muggle-dress-up" day."   
  
"And Dragons under twenty-five feet long can now be kept as house pets."   
  
"And leather pants must be worn soapy."   
  
"And every second Tuesday of the month, the Minister of Magic must come out to the fountain in the square and sing 'God Save the Queen' in flowered underpants and a top hat."   
  
"It was really a mess; the Ministry Officials and some of the others have been trying to sort it out for weeks."   
  
"How did the ink get switched?" Harry asked.   
  
"Dunno. But if they do decide to trace it back, they might find that it originated in a certain office of a certain junior assistant who also happens to be a certain backstabbing brother."   
  
"Not that we _meant_ for it to cause problems," Fred grinned.   
  
"At least not for everybody _else_."   
  
"Well, if you hear anything on Ginny, let us know."   
  
"Same goes for you. Take care of yourself, Harry. And don't let Ginny worry you too much, Ron. After all, she is _our_ sister."   
  
Their twin freckled faces disappeared into the flames, and after a few moments, the fireplace went dark.   
  
"That's _why_ I'm worried," muttered Ron.   
  
Hermione looked perplexed. "So what do we do now?"   
  
"Maybe we can write to one of the Order. Someone who works in the Ministry…and someone who _won't_ tell my Dad."   
  
"Professor Lupin might be able to help," suggested Harry. "He doesn't directly work for the ministry, but he knows a lot of people there, particularly in the Department of Magical Creatures. And I think he can keep a secret, so long as it isn't for too long."   
  
"Fine, then I'll send a note with Pig…" Ron paused for a moment at the little owl's name—Ginny had named it, after all. "…I'll send a note with Pig for him to check around. Hopefully, he'll find something that'll let us know where they've been."   
  
  
  
  
Draco coughed roughly, stepping out of the shower of ash and smoke that had signaled their arrival to his home. There was a dead weight on his left-hand side; it was causing his chest to throb fiercely.   
  
Ginny had fainted sometime during the trip. He didn't remember catching her, but he must have at some point because he had his arms wrapped around her.   
  
He felt uncomfortable and rather guilty that his well-planned excursion had come to this. It was his fault that she'd suffered such injuries in the Vivarium. The memory of her body smashing into the doorframe of the cabin...the sickening crack her head had made against the wood…it replayed over and over in his mind.   
  
He'd only intended to get her out of reach of the manticore's tail, but somehow, he'd misjudged her position, or the door, or the power of the spell…he'd been too desperate to think clearly, and she'd ended up like this.   
  
But what was bothering him more was what had been bothering him ever since the manticore first attacked—no, from the evening before, with the giant…   
  
He actually cared. He cared that he'd caused her pain, and that he'd hurt her. He cared that she'd been hurt.   
  
He lifted Ginny's body in his arms, the claw marks in his chest burning. He had no idea where his mother was, or who else might be occupying the house, but if there was anyone here, they wouldn't take kindly to the presence of a Weasley. His suite of rooms would be safest.   
  
He walked slowly up the stairs, Ginny's hair draped over his shoulder, her head lolling softly against him.   
  
He wasn't a completely unfeeling person—things worried or bothered him the same as they worried and bothered others. It was a misconception among the others about those in Slytherin. But this was different. She was one of the people he should hate the most—she _was_ one of the people he hated the most—but now, he couldn't hate her, no matter how he tried. It seemed strange, that such powerful feelings could change over the course of _one_ day.   
  
Especially when his feelings for the others she knew _hadn't_ changed. If Potter died tomorrow, he wouldn't shed a tear.   
  
_One day…_   
  
Or had it been that?   
  
He remembered Flourish and Blotts: "_Leave him alone, he doesn't deserve all that! _" Even at eleven, she'd been able to stand up to him. And after that…from events on the train to that Bat Bogey Hex…particularly last year…   
  
He frowned, shifting her rather roughly in his arms. The sooner they got to Hogwarts, the better. Then, he could get back to Slytherin where everything was normal and made sense. And where he could hate Weasley, Potter, her brother and all the rest of their little gang in peace.   
  
Ginny stirred slightly. He watched her face for a moment, then gently raised her head to lay on the soft part of his shoulder.   
  
His suite of rooms was near the top of the staircase, and exactly as he remembered them from the holidays. His letters from Hogwarts had been lain aside the desk in his study; his old broomsticks hung neatly in a row on the walls of his bedroom. His bureau was beginning to gather a thin film of dust; Mother had probably spared the House Elves this little bit of cleaning in favor of the more important rooms.   
  
He lay Ginny on the green and silver brocade bed clothes, the pulled on one of the five strings hanging over the side table. In one moment, a sharp crack announced the arrival of the tiny Teenija, the eldest House Elf of the Malfoy family.   
  
"M-master Draco! Has you returned so soon, sir?" she glanced nervously about the room, eyeing the dust with trepidation.   
  
"Don't worry about the room, Tenny. Can you have a look at this girl? She needs to be checked for injuries."   
  
"Tenny will have a looks for young Master, sir, of course, sir."   
  
"And where is my mother?"   
  
"Tenny believes that the Mistress is in her study, sir…she is there quite a bit, sir, with her guests."   
  
"Guests?" Draco moved to the door, pausing to watch as the Elf began to examine Ginny. "What guests does she have?"   
  
"Tenny is not being allowed to know, sir, on account of Dobby, sir."   
  
Draco frowned at the mention of the old house elf. "Why not?"   
  
"Mistress does not trust House Elves, young master, sir."   
  
Tenny said no more, but went back to examining Ginny. Draco raised an eyebrow, but didn't question her. He didn't have the time or the desire, whatever her opinion on Dobby or the family might be.   
  
"I'm going to find mother, Tenny. Don't tell anyone this girl is here. If she needs more serious treatment, come and find me first."   
  
Tenny turned to glance over at him, her large eyes widening slightly. "Yes, sir. Tenny tells no one. But what of young master's injuries?"   
  
Draco glanced down at his robes; there were dried patches of red visible on his tie, as well as the white shirt he wore underneath his robes. "I'll take care of that later. Just look after the girl."   
  
"Yes sir."   
  
He sauntered down the hall, loosening his tie. His chest still ached, much more fiercely then he'd let on to Tenny, but he could let Madam Pomfrey look it over when he returned to Hogwarts.   
  
The sooner he got to Hogwarts, and away from Ginny Weasley, the better.   
  
His mother's study was on the far side of the mansion, away from the traffic of the main floors. It extended down through three levels, containing a massive library alongside a cozy, well-lit sitting room. Draco entered through the upper doors, peering over the balcony at the stuffed cushions on the lowest level. His mother wasn't there, meaning she was probably in the room that was attached to it, where her writing desk was.   
  
He took his time down the winding staircases, holding tightly to the rails for support. He'd really have to see Madam Pomfrey.   
  
"Mother?"   
  
He knocked on the doorway to the Writing room, his gaze passing across the numerous volumes that rose three stories above his head. Almost every book ever written in the wizarding world was contained here. And he'd read many of them, though nowhere near all.   
  
The doors swung open behind him.   
  
"Draco?"   
  
Narcissa Malfoy gazed at him for a moment, then enveloped him in a hug, causing him to grunt slightly in pain. She released him, looking over him concernedly.   
  
"What happened to you? I thought you were supposed to return last night!"   
  
"I was…delayed." He doubled over, holding to his chest. "Ran into a little Floo problem."   
  
"Floo Problem! What, did it take you to the wrong destination? I'll have words with that Roget, I swear."   
  
"Perhaps you should. His connections aren't as secure as they should be."   
  
"My poor Draco. Did you have Tenny look at that?" she winced as she peeled back his robes.   
  
"I'll have Madam Pomfrey look it over when I get back. I just want to get to Hogwarts, Mother. I've been gone far longer than anticipated."   
  
His mother straightened. "Of course. You just tell Madam Pomfrey that you hurt yourself working for that mudblood loving half-giant's poor excuse for a class. I can't _believe_ Dumbledore still keeps him around." She was fishing around in one of her cabinets. "But, I'm certain that won't last for long, after what you told them in the Department of Magical Creatures."   
  
"Actually," Draco flushed. "I didn't make it to the Being division…or anywhere else, for that matter."   
  
Narcissa pulled out a flask of alcohol, wetting a small cloth with it. "Why not?"   
  
"It is a long story, mother. I'd rather not…"   
  
"Fine. Don't tell me anything. You are just like your father, sometimes…"   
  
_You're not your father, yet…_   
  
"OUCH!"   
  
"Don't whine," said his mother, wiping up the areas around the wounds. "This needs to be checked over again by Madam Pomfrey, of course, but this will help."   
  
"So," she sighed, placing the alcohol back in the cupboard and coming over to stand in front of him. "You've not succeeded in getting rid of Hagrid after all?"   
  
"No," he gasped, trying to ignore the stinging, "at least not today."   
  
"He really IS like his father, then. A failure," rang a voice from the upstairs hall. They hadn't heard the visitor enter, but Draco knew that voice almost as well as he knew his own. He'd heard it in echoes, in passing, for almost the whole of his life. And in person for the last six months.   
  
A graceful, gaunt figure descended the staircases, moving towards them. The face would have been beautiful, had it not been hollowed and sunken, from thirteen years of confinement in the coldest, most soulless place in existence.   
  
"You've got to work on your form, Draco. Otherwise, you _will_ end up like your father." Bellatrix Lestrange watched him coyly, a wicked grin shadowing her face.   
  
Draco turned. "Hello, Aunt Belle."   
  
  
  
  
  
There was a gentle humming that filled the room.   
  
"Mum…?"   
  
As Ginny's eyes adjusted to the dim light, she found herself wrapped in a large brocade quilt, embroidered with silver and green. Overhead, a curtained green canopy draped lightly over ebony wooden posts. The rest of the room was rather dark and dreary, and the one small window on the eastern side let in very little sunlight.   
  
Her head ached fiercely; she remembered flying away from someone, and banging into something incredibly hard. There had been a manticore, too…and the Floo…and…   
  
"Malfoy!"   
  
She sat up swiftly, and the room swam.   
  
"Miss must not do this, she hurts herself even more," said a kindly voice. To her right, Ginny could just make out the small, withered form of a female House Elf.   
  
"Who…who are you? Where am I?"   
  
"I am Tenny, Miss. You is in Master Draco's bedroom, where the young master brought you, Miss, so Tenny is looking after you."   
  
"Where he _brought_ me? Malfoy?"   
  
"Yes, Miss. Young master takes quite a bit of care with the young Miss." Tenny looked somewhat slyly at Ginny, and she felt herself blush.   
  
"I don't know why. We hate each other."   
  
"Yes Miss. But all the same, young master told Tenny to looks after you, and to not tell the Mistress of the Manor that you was here, Miss. Master Draco said he was finding a way back to Hogwarts, Miss."   
  
Ginny leaned back against the pillows, puzzled. Malfoy was appearing to be…_civil_. And this House Elf…she didn't appear to fear him as much as Dobby had. At least, she spoke of Draco without trembling.   
  
"You belong to the Malfoy family?"   
  
"Yes, Miss."   
  
"Then…you must have known Dobby?"   
  
Tenny's face changed. "Tenny is not allowed to be speaking of Dobby, Miss. Else she will have to punish herself severely, Miss."   
  
Ginny was well aware of what punishments Dobby had inflicted upon himself as a servant of the Malfoys. "It's alright then, Tenny. Don't punish yourself."   
  
Ginny watched the seemingly kindly House Elf as she bustled about the room, mixing a few different potion bottles into a goblet. "Are you a nursemaid here, Tenny?"   
  
"Tenny watches after the Malfoy children, Miss. She is watching after master Lucius when he was a lad, and she is watching over Master Draco now, Miss. Please, drink this."   
  
She handed Ginny the goblet, which smelled like sulfur and rotten tomatoes.   
  
Ginny wrinkled her nose. "What is it?"   
  
"Tenny knows a bit about medicines, Miss. This will help you sleep, and help your head, Miss."   
  
"I don't really care to go back to sleep, Tenny."   
  
"You must, Miss, if you are to be healing. Just for a little while. Tenny promises, nothing will happen to young Miss while she is being watching. Tenny does not think Master Draco allows for it, Miss."   
  
This time Ginny's face grew as red as her hair. "Thank…thank you, Tenny."   
  
She sipped the potion, which was surprisingly good, given its smell. Almost immediately, she began to feel heavy, and her head slipped back onto the soft brocaded pillow.   
  
"Tenny is uncertain," she could hear the House Elf droning softly, "but Tenny believes the young Miss is having affecting on Master Draco. He treats Tenny with respect. Tenny…Tenny might have to iron her hands after saying so, but Tenny is glad…very glad…for this."   
  
The world went peaceful, and dark.   
  
  
  
  
  
"What is _she_ doing here?" Draco asked, turning back to his mother.   
  
"Tsk, tsk, widdle nephew. Are you not happy to see your aunt?"   
  
"Not when it might mean getting my mother caught. If Dumbledore comes looking for her, Mother, then you might end up getting sent to Azkaban. It's bad enough having one parent in there."   
  
"Don't worry, Draco. Kreacher keeps us updated as to Dumbledore's whereabouts, for the most part. Besides that, Dumbledore has yet to set foot in Malfoy Manor, and he won't do so now."   
  
Draco was unconvinced. "After what she did to Potter? I think he'd have a good enough reason."   
  
"_Potter_," spat his aunt, her face growing grotesque, "didn't get _half_ of what he deserved."   
  
"I don't disagree with you, Aunt," said Draco. "Yet, he _did_ survive, and thanks to you, he's even more annoying than he was before. He's determined to save the world, and get revenge for Sirius Black. And the Slytherins have had to be _extra_ careful in dealing with him.   
  
"Beyond that, because of Father, the name of Malfoy doesn't go very far with anyone in the wizarding world anymore. If they find out you're here, I guarantee you Dumbledore's little army will be at the Manor within a day."   
  
"And who would tell them, Draco? You?"   
  
"Of course not. No one," he added, perhaps more quickly than he should.   
  
Bellatrix eyed him shrewdly.   
  
"Your Aunt won't be staying for much longer," said his Mother. "She's just using our connections to finalize some plans. And we've been particularly careful, considering that it's almost certain Dumbledore is having the Manor watched. Now go on upstairs."   
  
"And the Floo?"   
  
"I'll contact Roget and have him re-open one of the old networks into Hogwarts so you can go back. It'll take a few hours, but you should be back before sunset."   
  
"Very well, Mother. If you need me, just send Tenny or one of the others to me and I'll come."   
  
Narcissa nodded. He walked past Bellatrix with a defiant look; she continued to eye him warily, and he grimaced as soon as he'd passed her.   
  
The last thing he needed was for his aunt to suspect anything.   
  
_Then_, he thought grimly, _I wouldn't have to worry about Ginny at all. She wouldn't just be forgotten…   
  
She'd be dead. _   
  
  
  
  
  
Tenny was still bustling about his suite when he returned; in his bedroom, Ginny was sleeping peacefully.   
  
"How is she, Tenny?"   
  
"The young Miss is being rather badly hurt, sir, but Tenny is giving her a good medicine, and she becomes much better in a few hours, sir."   
  
"Will she be able to travel?"   
  
"Tenny is believing it is not being best for her to travel anytime soon, sir, but she would perhaps be able to if young master is needing to go…for young Miss's protection, sir."   
  
Draco eyed the House Elf in surprise. She had been around for as long as he had been living, but she'd never voiced her opinion quite so plainly.   
  
Even Tenny seemed to realize she'd spoken out of turn. "Tenny is sorry," she rasped fearfully, "Tenny will go and give herself a beating, sir."   
  
He normally never cared about the comings and goings of the House Elves, but a little voice inside him, which sounded peculiarly like Ginny, forced him to raise his hand. "That's not necessary, Tenny. Just keep me updated on where my mother's…er…_guests_ are, if you can…and who else might visit the manor tonight. The "young Miss" will have to leave when I do. But you _will_ have to punish yourself—severely—if anyone finds out that she is here," he added imperiously.   
  
"Yes, thanks to Master Draco, sir. Tenny does as you command."   
  
With a small "crack" she was gone.   
  
Draco pulled off his robe and lay it on one of the chairs, then leaned against the wall, watching Ginny as she slept. The hourglass atop his bureau told him it had been nearly eighteen hours since they left Hogwarts—which meant they'd been gone far longer than he'd anticipated.   
  
The Slytherins knew he would be missing for some time, and had come up with a plan to avoid his being discovered. Pansy would tell Professor Snape the same thing she told him yesterday—that Draco remained ill—and Professor Snape would pass along that information to the rest of the teachers.   
  
Ginny, however, was another matter.   
  
There was no doubt that Potter and her prat of a brother, Weasley, would be worried about her. What concerned Draco was that with her continued absence, they might consider doing something rash—like telling Dumbledore. In doing so, they would probably have sniffed out something about her being with him—Potter was pretty good at deducing things like that—which could get all of them in serious trouble if they were caught.   
  
Setting up the Floo might take another few hours. That was time Draco did not have, especially if goody-goody Potter decided to be sensible instead of letting his hero's complex kick in.   
  
_I have to let them know she's alright…_   
  
He felt nauseous at the thought of easing Potter's mind. Yet, he had no other choice.   
  
Still, there was no way in _hell_ he was directing the message _to_ Potter.   
  
After a lot of contemplating—and quite a few reminders that this was a _necessary_ evil—he decided it would be safest to contact Granger. Beside the humiliation he would suffer at having to forge even the smallest, most inconsequential alliance with Potter, or Weasley, there was the added problem of their not believing him.   
  
But Granger might—she, despite her rather arrogant and prissy manner—could be quite sensible of some things.   
  
Not that she hadn't caused him grief—as a matter of fact, _she_ was the one who usually acted upon her threats (his face _still_ stung at times from the slap she'd given him in third year and her hexes were always the ones that hit home). But she'd be concerned about Ginny, and would more than likely listen to reason. She only attacked if provoked…and usually ended up stopping more encounters than participating in them.   
  
He pulled out his quill pen, and scratched a few lines onto a parchment.   
  
A wave of his wand ensured only Granger's eyes would see the note. She'd tell Potter, of course, and Weasley, but that was nothing compared to addressing something to them.   
  
He picked the fastest owl in the aviary—his eagle owl was still at Hogwarts, of course—and send the letter off.   
  
And hoped Potter had retained some of that arrogant self-importance to last through the night.   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry toyed with the puff pastries on his plate. The rest of his dinner remained untouched.   
  
Ginny was _still_ missing, and there had been no sign or any word…a situation that had Ron near apoplexy. After they'd sent the owl to Professor Lupin, they'd waited almost half a day, hoping that he might know of somewhere Malfoy might have gone. But the Professor had checked almost all areas of the Department of Magical Creatures, and had come up empty handed.   
  
"_Sorry Harry_," his letter had said, "_There were no Floo entries, authorized or otherwise, in that Department…of course, there are some networks that are off limits, but there is no reason why they might have gone there…they wouldn't know how…if she hasn't turned up by tomorrow morning, please let me know. I think it would be best if Arthur, or Dumbledore, knew about this." _   
  
Harry had decided, finally, that they needed to tell Professor Dumbledore.   
  
"We're never going to find them this way," he said to Ron. "At least Professor Dumbledore will know where to look…and what to do."   
  
Ron had agreed with him.   
  
Surprisingly, it had been Hermione who'd held back.   
  
"Listen…she _was_ in mortal peril. Now we know she's not. She's _somewhere_ at the Ministry--but at least we know she's there. So there's really no reason why we should fear Ginny is in danger."   
  
"You're right," Ron replied. "There's _two_ reasons…first off, she's with _Malfoy_, and secondly, _SHE'S WITH MALFOY! _"   
  
Hermione had crossed her arms. "If it were one of us, would you be quick to turn us in, or would you give us the benefit of the doubt? She's not even been missing a day. It seems rash to bother Professor Dumbledore with this right away."   
  
"Right away? She's been missing a whole day! Plus, Ginny isn't exactly you. And I hardly think Malfoy qualifies as a Harry!"   
  
"And what if they are all right? What will happen then? Grawp will be discovered!" Now that it appeared Ginny was safe, Hermione's attention had returned to protecting Hagrid and Grawp.   
  
Ron tapped his foot wildly at this, but Hermione was unrelenting, and finally, convinced him to trust in Ginny—and wait just a few more hours.   
  
"Until supper. Then, we tell Dumbledore!"   
  
The rest of the day had gone without any hint of their whereabouts, although the professors didn't seem to get suspicious. None of the other Gryffindors, whether they were friendly with Harry or not, took it upon themselves to report Ginny's absence—most were too afraid of Ron for that—and had simply explained to the teachers that Ginny was sick. From what he could gather in the classes they shared, the Slytherins were doing the same with Malfoy. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought he might have seen signs of worry on Pansy Parkinson's pug face.   
  
Supper had brought sign of neither Malfoy nor Ginny.   
  
Ron's fork tapped on his plate. Hermione glanced over at him, sighing.   
  
"Come on, then."   
  
Harry tossed aside his fork and scrambled for his books, Ron doing the same, only more quickly.   
  
A large, beautiful tawny owl soared overhead, dropping a small roll of parchment on Hermione's plate as she lifted her satchel from under the table. She watched as it sailed away, then picked up the small roll of paper, looking confused.   
  
"Who's that from?" said Harry.   
  
Hermione shrugged as she pulled at the unstamped seal. "I'm not sure. I don't recognize the owl. Maybe its from Ginny!"   
  
She unrolled the parchment, Ron and Harry eagerly watching her face.   
  
With a gasp, she dropped her bag, her books spilling across the table and sending the remainder of her meal flying.   
  
"What is it?" Ron cried, reaching across the table to snatch the note out of her hand. The moment he touched it, it dissolved into a fine gray ash, burning out similar to a Howler. Hermione's eyes sparkled in the superior manner that usually meant she'd discovered something no one else knew.   
  
"Brilliant!"   
  
She gathered her books haphazardly as Ron, Harry, and the rest of the Gryffindors, most of whom were covered in leftover puff pastry, potatoes and plum pudding, watched her open-mouthed.   
  
She seemed to notice they were not moving, and reached over Neville to grab the back of Harry's robe and drag him to his feet.   
  
"Come ON!" she hissed at Ron. "Ginny!"   
  
Without another word, she marched out of the Great Hall, Ron and Harry scrambling along behind her.   
  
  
  
  
  
"What is this all about? What about Ginny?" Ron cried as they entered the Gryffindor Common Room, which, thankfully, was empty.   
  
"Who was the note from, Hermione?"   
  
Hermione tossed her books aside, which was an indication of just how excited she was. Hermione highly disapproved of the mistreatment of books.   
  
"M-Malfoy! That letter was from Malfoy!"   
  
Harry and Ron stared at her.   
  
Hermione ignored their blank looks and continued on. "He said…he said 'Ginny was with him, they were safe, and would be returning to Hogwarts shortly.'"   
  
"That was all?" Harry said, after a few moments of silence.   
  
"Well, it wasn't _exactly_ like that…it was more like 'tell that knit Potter and that prat Weasley that his sister is safe and we'll be coming back soon and if you tell anyone, she might just not be."   
  
"So she _was_ with him…" Harry murmured.   
  
"I don't believe this!" Ron cried. "_He's_ telling _us_ not to worry! What the bloody…"   
  
"At least she's all right, Ron. And she'll be home soon."   
  
"And you believe that?" Ron spat, whirling on Hermione. "You actually _believe_ what Malfoy says?"   
  
Hermione looked taken aback. "Well…wh-why not?"   
  
"Because he's _MALFOY! _ He can't be trusted! We've got to go and find them!"   
  
"Starting where? Malfoy Manor?"   
  
"If we have to!"   
  
"Ron, calm down! Malfoy's got no reason to hurt Ginny." Hermione sat down on one of the stuffed settees. "Nor would he have reason to let us know that she's alright, unless he wanted to prevent us from worrying. He was concerned."   
  
"_Prevent us from worrying? Concerned!!?? _"   
  
"Hermione's right, in a way," Harry said, interrupting him before he could continue. "Malfoy _wouldn't_ let us know—unless he had a reason."   
  
"So you'll give him credit, now, right? He's the bloody saint, trying to save the world?"   
  
"Of course not!" said Hermione. "He must be doing this to prevent our telling someone he and Ginny are missing."   
  
"Which means he _was_ up to no good."   
  
"Whatever he was up to, Ginny's stopped him. They were in the Ministry, at some point, and now they're not. And there have been no Ministry Officials today, searching for Grawp. She must have stopped him, somehow." Hermione was beaming. "I guess she was right."   
  
Ron looked at her quizzically. "Right about what?"   
  
Hermione's smile disappeared. "N-nothing."   
  
He started towards her. "What did Ginny tell you, Hermione?"   
  
"Nothing."   
  
"What was she right about? Did something happen between Malfoy and Ginny in the woods?"   
  
"Ron…"   
  
Ron eyed her as though he were really seeing her for the first time. "Is this really about Hagrid and Grawp? Or are you...you've been doing everything you could to make sure Malfoy didn't get into trouble this time around, haven't you? Are you protecting him?"   
  
"Of course not!" Hermione yelled, rising. "_I_ would never protect Malfoy! Its just…maybe…maybe things are different…he seems to act different…with…with Ginny."   
  
Harry dropped the books he'd been holding, staring at Hermione in amazement. Ron looked as though he'd been punched.   
  
"You think…you think…"   
  
Hermione shook her head, retreating a few steps. "I'm not saying anything, Ron. Its just…the letter, everything…none of it makes sense, at least not where Malfoy is concerned. Perhaps we should give him the benefit of the doubt…or give Ginny the benefit of the doubt…after all, they've been away together...nothing bad's come about..."   
  
Ron open and shut his mouth, goggling at her.   
  
"Hermione," Harry rasped, "What _exactly_ did Ginny tell you happened that night? Do you think…"   
  
"_Please_," she wailed, "it's not like that…its just…I can't explain it, is all. This has all been so confusing, and there was no way to know, but since Ginny's safe…oh, please…you trust me, don't you?"   
  
"No," Ron spat finally, casting Hermione a dark look. "I'm afraid that those feelings are reserved for those of us who are _loyal_ to one another. I can't believe you'd even consider that! Or at least tell us if Ginny is up to something!"   
  
"She's not up to something. But her feelings have to be considered too…"   
  
She seemed to be making the situation go from bad to worse.   
  
"_FEELINGS? _"   
  
Harry glanced between the two of them.   
  
Hermione's eyes were fearful. "Listen, Ron...it's just..."   
  
"YOU LISTEN! THIS IS MY SISTER WE'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND ALL YOU CAN SAY IS TO TRUST MALFOY! TRUST HIM!! I WANT TO KILL HIM!"   
  
"Ron..." said Hermione, reaching out a hand to him. "Please..."   
  
"GET OFF!" He pushed between them, storming through the portrait hole. They could hear the Fat Lady's errant remarks as she banged roughly against the wall.   
  
Harry watched his friend march down the corridor, his face nearly as scarlet as his hair, as Hermione collapsed onto the sofa. Ron had grown irritated with both of them every now and again, but he rarely became _this_ angry.   
  
Perhaps this time, though, he had good reason.   
  
"Hermione, how could you believe…"   
  
"I know, Harry...but...there are things...there are things you don't know. Things neither you nor Ron..."   
  
At the mention of his name, she burst into tears.   
  
Harry stood over her awkwardly for a moment, then sat down beside her and patted her shoulder softly. After a few moments, she turned to him, her eyes red and her face splotchy.   
  
"I wish I could tell you both what I know. But I can't...I made a promise I cannot break. I'm as worried about Ginny as anyone. But…we never really knew what happened…and H-Hagrid…" Fresh tears rose in her eyes, and Harry found himself, despite his better judgment, nodding his head.   
  
"I trust you, Hermione. Don't worry...Ron will too. You just have to give him some time to get used...well, you just have to give him some time."   
  
She nodded, wiping her eyes with her robes. "I know...but its just...hard..." She leaned over to gather up her books. "Things will be so much better when Ginny gets back and can explain all of this! Ron's not the only one who could strangle someone right now!"   
  
Harry smiled. "Somehow, I don't think that will help out the situation much."   
  
Hermione half-smiled, sniffling, as she pulled out her advanced Potions book. "I just hope Ginny gets back soon. And that what Malfoy wrote _was_ the truth. Because if it wasn't, Ron's not going to get the chance to kill him."   
  
  
  
  
  
Darkness was growing outside the windows of Malfoy Manor; Draco glanced again at the hourglass.   
  
Eight o'clock. Even if Granger had received his owl, and taken him for his word, it wouldn't stop the rest of the Potterites from wondering where they were.   
  
Tenny had returned only once, to check on Ginny, and report she was going to be quite well by this evening. To which he felt an unwanted amount of relief.   
  
Criado, the youngest House Elf, had come at sunset (at Teenija's order, no doubt) to light the lamps and candelabra. He'd merely nodded and bowed at Draco, then lit the fire and disappeared with a crack.   
  
Draco had received no word from his mother, which also began to worry him. If she decided to check up on him herself…   
  
Ginny stirred slightly. He rose from his armchair by the fire and moved over to the bedside. There was a large bruise around the side of her face and down her neck, the aftereffects of his trying to help her.   
  
_This is my fault…_   
  
Bending over her, he brushed a few strands of her long, red-gold hair away from it.   
  
A loud "bang" signaled the arrival of another House Elf.   
  
"Mistress says the Floo is ready, Young Master. Mistress says Young Master is being here, and Kreacher is eagerly to see Young Master, heir to the noble line of Black, one of the few left who is worthy…"   
  
Draco swung around; behind him, the House Elf Kreacher, whom he'd only heard of in passing from time to time because he was so useful a spy at the Black house, was wringing his hands and staring at Ginny with disgust.   
  
And shock.   
  
"A mudblood lover, yes, the same brat as was there before, the same as was polluting the house of my Mistress, my poor Mistress, if she knew the shame of such a brat, to be contaminating the noble House of Malfoy…Heir of the House of Black…"   
  
With a great bang, he was gone.   
  
Draco stared at the space where the House Elf had been, his mind whirling. Kreacher was supposedly loyal only to those who served the Dark Lord. And somehow, he knew Ginny, Ginny had _stayed_ with him—in the Black House...   
  
He'd known Potter was there, but the Weasleys?   
  
"Ginny. Ginny, wake up!"   
  
Ginny stirred once more.   
  
"Get up!" Kreacher had such _hatred_ for her in his face. There was only one place he could be going…   
  
"GET UP, WEASLEY!"   
  
Ginny's eyes snapped open. Draco rushed to the fireplace, using his wand to snuff the flames out.   
  
"Hurry! Hurry, you have to get up!"   
  
She was watching him in confusion, barely managing to sit up. The medicine appeared to have made her groggy, but Draco had little time to worry on that now.   
  
"Get up! The Floo is ready, we need to get back to Hogwarts!"   
  
"Wait a moment," she whispered, "I…"   
  
"We don't have TIME!"   
  
He lifted her in his arms, ignoring the pain in his chest, and moved as swiftly as he could to the fireplace. A leather bag of Floo Powder hung near the hearth.   
  
"Can you stand?"   
  
She reached for the mantelpiece. "Yes, I think so. Malfoy, what is this about?"   
  
He undid the strings, heart racing. A larger quantity than he needed poured out into his hands, but he cared little. He shoved it at her.   
  
"Here…hurry! Go to Slytherin…it's the only one that's open."   
  
"What?"   
  
"HURRY!"   
  
She stared into his face for a moment, looking puzzled. The expression he wore must have been alarming, because she didn't question, and moved into the fireplace.   
  
A figure materialized before them with a pop, and before it was even visible, had seized Ginny's outstretched hand, forcing her to drop the Floo Powder.   
  
Bellatrix Lestrange yanked Ginny out of the fireplace, drawing the young girl close to her gaunt face.   
  
"Well, well, well…what have we here?"   
  
  
  
  
  
Harry found Ron soaring around the Quidditch pitch, despite the late hour—and the chance of getting caught.   
  
It took him a few minutes to settle to the ground. Harry walked over to him.   
  
"I borrowed the Firebolt."   
  
"'s okay," Harry said.   
  
"Can you believe what she said?" Ron said finally, after a few moments of silence.   
  
"Hermione meant well, Ron. I don't think she wanted you to completely trust in Malfoy. She just didn't want you to worry."   
  
"Not about _that_. I mean about Malfoy…and Ginny. The idea of…"   
  
"That might not be true, mate. Hermione was basing it on something Ginny told her, but it can't be that serious. Ginny's hated Malfoy almost as long as you have."   
  
"I know…but…" Ron sighed. "You know, when she came out of the forest, things were different. _Both_ of them were different. You thought it was strange, right? When Malfoy wouldn't argue back?"   
  
"So," Harry replied. "Malfoy's been cowed before—particularly by Ginny."   
  
"But he's never _run_ away. He usually shows up after he's been beaten—and uses it to come up with something fouler than normal. But this time—its was like he was _afraid_ of her finding out…or of what she might do. Or of…_upsetting_ her."   
  
"Then good for Ginny. It's a sign that Malfoy is finally getting what he deserves."   
  
"Or that he's changing." Ron looked disgusted at the thought. "I mean, come on! He gave up a chance to get you, Hermione, Hagrid AND Grawp into trouble…why? For Ginny? Any other time before, he would have cared _less_ about getting caught in the forest after hours. And Snape would never have punished him."   
  
"But Malfoy doesn't like to be embarrassed. He was saved _by_ Ginny. That might have been enough to prevent him from talking."   
  
"That's another thing. Being saved _by_ Ginny. That's enough to be concerned about right there!" He buried his hands in his face. "I'm not supposed to worry about Ginny like this. She's supposed to be sensible…like Mum. She's the _girl_. She's not Fred and George…or Percy…or Bill."   
  
"I don't recall anyone ever telling _me_ that girls were sensible. And in a way, you're right," said Harry, sitting down next to him. "Ginny's not like _any_ of you. She's _Ginny_. She's her own person. And she can make her own choices, whatever they might be."   
  
"They're _supposed_ to be sensible. Both girls and choices! And they're not supposed to have _anything_ to do with Draco Malfoy!"   
  
"Like Hermione said…give Ginny the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she'll surprise us all."   
  
"She's seemed to do nothing _but_ that lately…I'd hoped…"   
  
"What?"   
  
"I'd hoped she'd at least be rather boring in one area. She used to annoy us all, following you around all the time. But lately it hadn't seemed such a bad idea…"   
  
Harry eyed him for a moment. "What…you think…Ginny and…I…?"   
  
He started to laugh.   
  
"Don't laugh, it isn't funny! I wouldn't have minded having you as around all the time…"   
  
"Ron, I _am_ around all the time. With the way your Mum goes on, I basically am a member of your family. Not that I mind," he added quickly. "In fact, I rather like it."   
  
"I know…but still…at least you would have been…safe."   
  
"Right. With Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Dementors, Giants, and Bellatrix Lestrange running about, trying to snuff out me and everyone else I'm close to? I'm the perfect choice."   
  
"At least you're not related to her!"   
  
"No. I'm not." He stood. "Come on. Let's get back to the Common Room. Its getting late, Ginny will probably be arriving at any moment, and Hermione will never get her homework done if you don't come back soon. And you know we'll have to hear about _that_ in the morning."   
  
They started to trudge back up to the castle. Harry hoped that wherever she was, Ginny wasn't facing anything near as dangerous as Bellatrix Lestrange.   
  
  
  
  
  
"What are you protecting, Draco?" Bellatrix asked, flinging Ginny aside to the floor. Narcissa apparated a moment later, taking in the events before her with a confused expression.   
  
"A friend of Potter's—and an enemy of the Dark Lord!"   
  
"Draco?" asked his mother shakily, eyeing the Floo Powder in his hand, the remainder of which was scattered around Ginny's trembling form.   
  
"She followed me," he said nervously. "But she ended up saving my life, mother."   
  
"Saving your life?" mocked Bellatrix, pulling out her wand. "I remember you, little one…"   
  
Ginny had backed up into the wall, but was staring at her defiantly.   
  
_Not now_, he thought.   
  
"I remember you well. They wanted to protect you…your little friends, so brave. But I guess they're not here, now."   
  
She raised her wand.   
  
"_CRUCIO! _"   
  
Ginny's body contorted, her shrieks filling his chambers.   
  
"STOP!"   
  
Draco bolted across the room, snatching at his aunt's wand arm. She flung him off unceremoniously. He cried out, clutching at his stomach, as Ginny collapsed onto the floor, whimpering.   
  
"What are you doing, _Draco? _"   
  
His mother was watching them both in shock.   
  
"You…you can't hurt her. They know she's here. _Dumbledore_ knows she's here. If anything happens to her, you and my mother will both be sent to Azkaban."   
  
His aunt eyed him in amusement. "Do you think I care what that withered old man thinks? I would like to see him try and catch me."   
  
"You may not, Bella. But I do," said Narcissa, moving over to help Draco to his feet. "The only way Lucius and the others will be able to escape is if there is someone who can help them. If Dumbledore finds out I've been harboring you and others, then everything Lucius has worked for will be for naught. Beyond that," she pointed out, "I'm not keen on failing the Dark Lord _again_."   
  
At this, Bellatrix's face darkened, and she stared at Ginny's trembling form hatefully. "It was their fault that the plan failed. Hers, and Potter's, and that mudblood and their friends. You," she raised her wand, pointing at Draco, "how do they know she's here?"   
  
Narcissa moved swiftly between them. "You will not point your wand at my son, Bella."   
  
"They don't know she's at the Manor. They know she's with me. But it won't take Dumbledore long to find us."   
  
"It won't take him long to find you. But he'll never find her." Bellatrix stooped to grasp Ginny's arm, pulling her to her feet, and dragging her down the hallway. Ginny turned to look at him, her eyes filled with fear.   
  
"Mother," Draco cried, "she can't hurt her."   
  
Narcissa looked at him. "Don't worry, Draco. You won't get caught. The blame will fall to the Death Eaters. You sought refuge here, and your aunt surprised us all. If Dumbledore comes looking for her, then you've been as much a victim in this as she has."   
  
He watched helplessly as his aunt dragged Ginny's whimpering form out of the rooms, down to the dungeons of the Manor.   
  
_I promised she wouldn't get hurt…_   
  
"CRUCIO!"   
  
Ginny's screams echoed through the Manor. He turned, banging his fists against the walls, listening helplessly as his promise was broken over, and over, again.   
  
**ouch! Sorry, another cliffy…get used to it, cuz you're gonna get a couple of really good ones! I'm getting to the meaty stuff now…the next chapter brings more of Bellatrix, a plot involving Hogwarts, and perhaps a little relief for Ron…if Malfoy can muster up the courage to save Ginny from his aunt!**   
***Thanks to all who've reviewed, you've been a big help! The story's coming really well, but as many of you writers know, its sometimes hard to remember all that you've written as you write! I'm going back and editing as best I can, but I am as eager to get this out as you are to receive it. Forgive any errors of plot flow, I promise I'll correct them if I can!*** 


	4. Comings and Goings

**In the Shadows: A Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts!!!)**   
  
Chapter 4: Comings and Goings   
  
  
  
  
Draco sat curled in the armchair near the fireplace, watching the flames dance beneath the stoneware mantelpiece.   
He could no longer hear Ginny's screams, but that didn't mean his aunt had stopped. The Dungeons in the Manor were far below the ground, where Ministry officials would never find them. They could be apparated to, however, and thanks to his father and mother, all of the Death Eaters were well aware of their location.   
His mother had instructed him to return to Hogwarts as soon as he felt up to it; the problem was, he didn't feel like going back.   
Not only would he have to explain his absence to the Slytherins, he'd have to face the Gryffindors. Potter, Granger—to whom he'd sent that miserable note—and worst of all…   
Weasley.   
He'd never seen a Gryffindor perform an illegal curse—he didn't think they were capable of them. In fact, his aunt often laughingly told the story of how Potter had tried so desperately and failed. But somehow, Draco didn't think Weasley would have a problem with it when he found out what had happened to his sister.   
And that was the biggest rub. Above all other things, even having to explain what had happened to Dumbledore or Snape, he didn't want to abandon Ginny. It was that thought, more than anything else, that ate at him, and prevented him from returning to the comfort of Slytherin.   
His mother had been in to check on him twice, and ask why he "hadn't left for school yet."   
He'd only told her he didn't feel quite up to it yet, at which point she eyed him strangely, but left him alone. If she had any suspicions about his worrying on Ginny, she didn't let on.   
He wanted to go and find her. The location of the Dungeons weren't a problem…but his aunt was. Should she discover that he'd set out to free Ginny, she'd kill her off for certain, if she hadn't killed her already. And chances were she had Kreacher, or some other loyal Dark Lord loving House Elf, keeping an eye on him or his rooms in case he decided to leave them.   
Ginny's face, contorted and screaming, flashed through his mind. His stomach twisted.   
Bellatrix Lestrange wouldn't be above killing a Weasley. But she enjoyed other things beyond a swift death. The stories of Neville Longbottom's parents hadn't been told directly to him—his mother wouldn't allow it—but in the shadows below the House, when his parents had their secret meetings—he'd heard the praises, the laughter…   
Her use of the Cruciatus Curse had driven them mad. He knew that from Longbottom himself.   
The patter of tiny footsteps interrupted him; he peered around the high back of the chair as Tenny approached him cautiously.   
She hadn't appeared in the usual manner, the House Elf's form of apparation. He watched her in puzzlement.   
"Master…Master Draco sir?"   
"Why did you come like this, Tenny? I am in no mood to deal with House Elves right now."   
"Yes…yes, sir…but Tenny is coming to see the young master about the young miss, sir."   
Draco rose swiftly, towering over her. "What do you know about the young miss?"   
"She is being all right, now, Master Draco. She is being holding in the lowermost room of the Malfoy's Dungeons."   
"She's all right?" a wave of relief swept through Draco. "How did you find this out?"   
Tenny looked at him kindly. "Master Draco, sir…if Tenny may say so…House Elves are being silent, but are not unawares of things. Tenny is a good House Elf, sir, but Tenny is also being here a long time, sir, and is knowing things about Malfoy Manor not even the Master and Mistress is knowing, sir."   
He looked on her in amazement. "Tenny…"   
"Tenny will iron her hands, sir," the House Elf replied quickly, "Tenny speaks too much out of turn."   
"No…Tenny, do you know how to find the Young Miss without letting the Mistress or her…_guest_…know?"   
"If young Master comes with Tenny, Tenny takes him to the Young Miss." She stretched out a withered hand. Draco placed his in hers; it felt soft, and worn, like old leather.   
He heard a great crash, and the room around him went dark.   
  
  
  
  
Ginny heard a sharp crack as a flash of light lit up the area around her.   
She turned her head, trying to shield her eyes. Her body quivered in pain; Bellatrix Lestrange hadn't been kind. But the only relief to the Cruciatus Curse was that it wasn't a killing curse…yet.   
Bellatrix must need her for something…probably something to do with Harry, or Hogwarts…but she needed her all the same, because her use of the spell could have been much worse, as Ginny knew firsthand. Neville had only shared a bit of what his parents had gone through, but it was enough to know that the Lestranges were completely merciless.   
On top of that, the potion the House Elf had given her had lessened the memory of it a bit; despite the ferocity of Bellatrix's attacks, Ginny was so groggy she could hardly remember how many there had been…and she thanked Tenny for that.   
The light subsided; Ginny could see nothing around her. The Malfoy Dungeons were completely pitch black, save a few torches which lit the way down from the upper levels. She hadn't been chained to the wall, but there wasn't need. Except for one small iron-worked door, the rest of the dungeon was completely enclosed in stone.   
She wouldn't have the strength to move, anyway.   
"Ginny?"   
The door swung open.   
"_Lumos_"   
A small light filled the air, and Draco Malfoy's face swam into view. Almost immediately he moved over to her, touching her face lightly with his fingers.   
"Ginny?"   
She stirred, hardly able to move her head. "I'm…I'm not hurt…"   
He looked at her doubtfully, unconvinced. "I'm going to get you out of here…can you lift your arms?"   
"Yes…" she shifted, and grimaced. Her arms felt like lead and her body screamed as she moved it. She collapsed back against the wall.   
"No," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady, but it came out as more of a whimper. She hoped she wouldn't begin crying in front of him.   
"Just hold on." He bent and lifted her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing; surprising, considering their almost equal size.   
"Tenny?"   
Ginny finally noticed the small House Elf as she moved into the light. She was staring up at her in concern. "I will returning young Master to his Father's chambers. They are being unopened since the Master is being away."   
"No…" Ginny whispered.   
"It'll be all right," he said softly. "Let's go, Tenny."   
She latched onto his wrist, her other hand laying on Ginny's foot. There was another flash, and a sharp *pop!*, and they were out of the Dungeons, though not in a room much brighter. Tenny moved over to the fireplace, lighting it quickly with a bit more of her magic.   
"Please to be hurrying, Master Draco sir."   
The room lit under the dim shadow of the flames, and Ginny could just make out a large chamber, draped everywhere in black crepe. Atop the mantle to the fireplace stood a strange wooden hourglass, with something that sparkled like diamonds flowing through the bulbs. The walls bore strange crests all around, most embroidered in silver and green, and there was a relief running across the top of the large doorway—a battle scene of some kind, with wizards pointing wands—and muggles bent over, gruesomely contorted.   
But it was the portraits that caught her attention almost immediately. One hung along the side wall, a large, oil canvas of Salazar Slytherin. To it's left, a shrouded figure, cloaked in black, face not visible, but red eyes peering out beneath its hood and cowl. Both portraits shifted and glared hatefully at her, as though they knew she was a Weasley.   
But it was the third figure—the one that rested between them—that sent Ginny into tremors. The portrait of a young man, handsome, with coal black eyes and a half-smile on his face. He wore Hogwarts robes, with the Slytherin patch and a prefect's badge…and a medal for service on the lapel. He grinned as he saw her, a faint recognition flashing in his eyes, and his mouth formed her name, one long finger stretching towards her.   
Tom Riddle.   
Draco looked at her. "What's wrong?"   
She turned her face away from the pictures. "Let's just leave here…_please_."   
"Tenny has found it, Master Draco," she heard the House Elf say. Draco reached for a black, velvet encased bag—the Floo Powder that serviced this room. "We're almost at Hogwarts…don't worry."   
Ginny closed her eyes. _Gryffindor…Ron…_   
And she knew something was wrong.   
"Wait."   
Tenny was putting out the fire. Draco stared at her in the receding light. "What is it?"   
"My wand."   
Bellatrix had taken it from her.   
Draco paused for a moment, thinking. "Did the wand choose you?"   
"What?"   
"Did you buy yours from Ollivander's…or was it a hand-me-down?"   
"From Ollivander's," she murmured. The question had been purely inquisitive—nothing insulting. "My parents had to work something out, but they managed to buy me a wand from Ollivander's shop in my first year."   
"Then your wand chose you." He grimaced, and set her down gently on the floor, next to the wall. "I'm going to get it."   
"What?"   
"M-Master Draco…you mustn't be doing such a thing! You are getting caught and Tenny is not able to help you!"   
"I have no choice. There are spells that can be performed on people's wands that can hurt its owner, if the wand has chosen the wand bearer. I have to get it out of Bella's hands or it might cause the Young miss more pain."   
"Buts…buts the House Elf Kreacher is watching Young Master's rooms. He will report to the…_guest_…that Master Draco is wandering the halls."   
"Do you know where the "guest" put the wand, Tenny?"   
"No but…but Tenny is able to find out, Master Draco."   
"Not if its going to cause Tenny to get hurt," said Ginny.   
Draco looked slightly annoyed at this, but sighed instead of arguing. "Can you do it without risk to yourself, Tenny?"   
The House Elf grinned, her withered face lighting. "Yes, Master Draco. Tenny will ask the other House Elves to help her. Mistress is paying no attention to House Elves and their comings and goings. Mistress is thinking nothing of House Elves popping in to keep the Manor clean."   
"Very well, then go. And don't tell anyone where we are…only you are allowed to bring me the wand back."   
"Yes, sir." She snapped her fingers just as Draco raised a hand.   
"Wait…Tenny…!"   
But she was gone.   
"…the fire…" he trailed off.   
"Just use your wand," whispered Ginny. "It'll be better anyway, to have only a little light."   
He pulled out his wand once more, and lit the tip. The furniture in the room was shadowed by the small glow, but, thankfully, Ginny couldn't see the portraits.   
"Do you want to sit on a chair…or lay down?" he asked, turning to the massive bed, draped in black and blood red velvet.   
"NO!" she cried, perhaps more swiftly than she should. "I'll just…stay here." She patted the stone floor.   
"You can't be serious. This is terribly uncomfortable. It's stone!"   
"I'm fine."   
"No, you're not."   
She turned to him, annoyed. "I'm…"   
He was staring at her in concern.   
"I promise…I'm fine. Better." The pain was receding, if only slightly. At least she could move her arms and legs now.   
There was silence between them. He moved over to her side, sitting next to her on the floor.   
"Did she hurt you…very much?"   
There was something in the quiet way he said it that make her heart beat a little faster. "Not as much as she could have, I suppose. But I was scared."   
He turned away from her, slumping down against the wall. "I'm sorry."   
"For what? It wasn't your fault."   
His head snapped around. "What?"   
"It wasn't your fault. You had no way of knowing Bellatrix Lestrange would be here."   
"But I thought…I thought that's what you were afraid of…that's why you didn't want to come in the first place!"   
"Well, of course I would be afraid of it if I didn't trust you! But you…you gave me this…"   
She held open her left hand, uncurling her fingers for the first time since Bellatrix had left her in the dungeon. His prefects badge was lying on her palm, which was bruised and bleeding. The Slytherin snake, along with the Prefect's symbolic "P," had been cut into the skin.   
She stared at it in surprise. She hadn't even realized it had hurt her.   
"You…you were holding onto this the entire time?" He was gazing at the mark in dismay.   
"If I had dropped it, Bellatrix would have seen it," she answered honestly. "And she would have known you owed something to me. More than just my having followed you here."   
"Ginny…" He lifted her hand, tracing the etch of the snake lightly, then pulling off his tie. He wrapped it gently around the wound. "I'm so sorry…about all of this. You were right in the beginning. We should have gone to your house. I know that your family would never have put me through what mine has done to you."   
Ginny half smiled. "I'm not so sure about that. You've don't know my Mum."   
He looked at her in surprise, then suddenly, laughed. Tilted his head to the side, silver-blond hair falling softly across his face, and laughed. It was the first time she'd heard anything like it from someone in Slytherin House.   
A loud crack signaled Tenny's return to Lucius's bedroom.   
"Master Draco," she said, eyeing them in surprise for a moment, a subtle grin on her face. The smile washed from his, and he released Ginny's hand.   
"Yes?"   
"Master Draco, the guest is having the wand in her bedroom, on the second level of the Manor sir. But…the House Elves cannot be taking it, Master Draco, because she is in the room discussing with the Mistress."   
"That's fine, Tenny." He rose.   
"Where are you going?"   
"To get your wand."   
"But you'll get caught!"   
"I'll wait until Mother and Aunt Bella leave. I'll sneak into the room after that."   
"Please to let Tenny be getting the wand for you, sir. She can apparate into the rooms without causing problems for the Master."   
"No, Tenny. This is far too dangerous for any of you. Mother will have you stripped, or your children given clothes, or worse, if she finds you. If I get caught, Mother will take care of me."   
Ginny watched him worriedly. "Are you sure?"   
He half-smiled at her. "You don't know _my_ Mum either."   
  
  
  
  
His aunt had to be in the Northeastern turret. That particular part of the house had a repelling charm on it, so that on first glance, no other wizard could enter it. They would be circling around the Northwestern turret twice, thinking they'd covered all areas of the Manor.   
But Draco knew exactly how to get through the charm. A simple incantation, and he was making his way down the silver and green draped halls, every nook and crevice a testament to the workings of pure-blood wizards since Salazar Slytherin had first decided they were the only ones worthy of wands.   
His aunt's room was near the top, overlooking the lakes.   
There were raised voices floating through the heavy wooden door; apparently, the enchantments which sealed off this particular wing did not seal the rooms. He slid up alongside the thick oak, listening.   
"This appears rather rash, Bella. Are you certain of the Dark Lord's plan?"   
"You question the Dark Lord?"   
"Of course not! But still…this seems a bit…"   
"My darling Cissy," mocked Bellatrix, "the visions of the Dark Lord are not understood by those of us who are lesser beings. We must trust in him."   
"But Hogwarts…why would he wish to take on Dumbledore _inside_ the school? It seems foolhardy, at best, and is certainly not the easiest way to get rid of the Potter boy."   
Draco's heart started to pound. _Hogwarts? _   
"The Dark Lord will see them _all_ destroyed…Potter and all those who defied him. Like that girl. Whom we'll take care of shortly, as soon as they've seen we have her."   
"But what about the Slytherins? Many of his followers have children in those halls. If you release an army of Dementors—or the Shrouds—into them, they will make no judgment as to who is worthy and who is not. All will be at risk."   
"Then warn those Death Eaters about their children. Keep Draco here with you, if you fear for him, traitor though he may be."   
There was a bitter silence for a moment. When his mother spoke again, it was with a voice colder than her sister's had been. And far more malicious than he was used to hearing.   
"I've warned you before about threatening Draco. If you endanger him in any way, I promise you shall pay for it. Or have you forgotten our little childhood games?"   
"No." Bellatrix returned in a quieter, more subdued voice. All hint of amusement was completely gone. "Of course not."   
"Good."   
"The plan is set, then" Bellatrix continued after a few awkward moments. "The army will be ready tomorrow night. Your connections have ensured me that the repelling charms will be reversed to prevent any interference from wizards outside the school. And all communications and parts of the Floo network shall be cut off—"   
"Save the one in Slytherin House."   
"Very well—save the _Slytherins_. I shall leave that for you to arrange."   
"And the school itself?"   
"It shall be destroyed, of course."   
"Is that the wish of the Dark Lord as well? It was, after all, his school too. I had believed he meant simply to conquer it, not wipe it out of existence."   
"He cares nothing for Hogwarts."   
"And what of the Dark Lord himself? Where shall he be?"   
Bellatrix was silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was next to Draco's ear. He scrambled into the closest nook, sliding behind a long, green woven tapestry.   
"The Dark Lord expects his followers to do his bidding without his help. We shall take care of this on our own."   
"Take care of Potter on our _own_?" His mother emerged from the room first, doubt etched into her pretty face. "The Dark Lord instructs us to get rid of Potter _for_ him?"   
"With the Prophecy destroyed," Bellatrix replied, following her, "there is no need for him to go after Potter."   
"But he's _Potter_. The Resurrection spell. The Priori Incantatem…even the Protection…"   
His aunt's face contorted for a moment. "This is the Dark Lord's order! I have told you before about questioning it! Go and confront the Dark Lord yourself if you have doubt!"   
Narcissa eyed her squarely, crossing her arms. "So I shall, then."   
Bellatrix laughed. "Very well. Just remember, he does not like to be bothered by those who have not sworn allegiance. You remain a common pure-blood, Cissy, not a Death Eater."   
"My husband has given everything in service of the Dark Lord. And my son is one of those promised to him. He will not question my allegiance."   
"The choice is yours. But remember what that promise means, and the importance your son holds for the Death Eaters as well as for the Dark Lord. Without him, the line of Black is lost. And with Lucius gone, there is no one left to teach him. Except you, of course." She moved swiftly past her sister, her voice echoing down the hall.   
"What does that mean?"   
"The Dark Lord is merciless to those who question his motivations. It would be a shame for Draco to lose two parents so closely together."   
Narcissa was pensive for a moment, then followed her sister down the hall, her neat robes a delicate contrast to the long, loose ones her sister wore. Draco watched them leave, his heart pounding.   
_She's going to attack Hogwarts…_   
His aunt intended to destroy the school, and everyone in it. Potter, Dumbledore, Granger, everyone…   
But the Slytherins would be safe. His mother would make sure of that. And they would warn Professor Snape.   
But the school…could she _actually_ be planning on doing something like that? It seemed impossible. Hogwarts was impenetrable.   
As puzzled as he was, he didn't have time to think on it. Whatever might happen to the school, Ginny was his immediate concern. He glanced down the hallway once, assuring himself Bella wasn't there, before walking quietly into her chambers. On the desk in the study, there was a wand. There were no markings on it, but he was fairly certain it was Ginny's. However…   
"_Prior Incantato_." The spell was a difficult one to master, and Draco could just barely get the wand to shudder out its last attempts at a spell. But a thin, smoky shadow echoed from the wand tip…the shadow of a table, levitating.   
He smiled a moment, recalling the ferocity with which she'd flung that table at the manticore. The Levitation Spell had been the last charm Ginny performed. This was indeed her wand.   
He shut the doors to the chambers, and swiftly moved down the hallway to the back staircases. The words of his aunt echoed through his mind, and his smile faded. Hogwarts was going to be attacked. And she'd set off to kill Ginny.   
He did not catch the dull yellow eyes watching him from the shadows.   
  
  
  
  
Draco returned a few moments later, Ginny's wand in hand. "This is it, correct?"   
She grabbed it eagerly. "Thank you."   
"Then let's go. To your house. Your family hasn't sealed up the Floo, have they?"   
"My house?" Ginny grasped his outstretched hand, pulling slowly to her feet. The pains in her body had begun to diminish, and the strength was returning to her legs. "Why do you want to go to the Burrow?"   
"I think it would be better if you stayed there a bit. Regain your strength."   
"I told you before, I'm fine. Or I will be, after one of Madam Pomfrey's medicines."   
"You'll be better treated at your house."   
"I will not!" she said, amused. "Not only will Mum scold me for being out of school, she'll scold me for being injured, and she'll scold me for not being more careful, and she'll scold me for having to worry Ron…"   
"Weasley, please!" Malfoy cried, his face flushing. "Stop chattering and just go home!"   
"No." she replied sternly, staring at him in confusion. "I would prefer to go back to Hogwarts. For one thing, it won't get me in trouble, and for a second, Madam Pomfrey can cure anything. Which, I think, you will need as well," she gestured to the blood on his still unchanged shirt. "Why are you arguing with me?"   
"I'm not," he spat. "I will be fine. I don't _need_ Madam Pomfrey. And I don't need _you_ to worry about me."   
"What?" Ginny said, yanking her hand out from his. Somehow, in the time he'd been away from her, he'd completely reverted back to old Malfoy form. "What's wrong with you?"   
"Wrong? Nothing's wrong."   
"Did you get caught?"   
"Of course not!"   
"Then what…" she bit her tongue. "I'm going back to Hogwarts. If I go to the Burrow, Mum will get very curious, and this entire thing, from Grawp to the Manor, will be discovered."   
"And so what if she does? She'll not be able to do anything about it."   
Ginny glared at him in fury.   
"Go on, then," he sneered, crossing his arms. "Run home to your Mum."   
"I don't think so, Malfoy." She limped her way to the fireplace. Tenny was staring at them both, confused. She snatched the velvet bag out of the House Elf's hands. "Which Floo is it? To Hogwarts?"   
"You'll have to guess, I suppose."   
"Which means it's Slytherin, of course."   
He glanced at her in surprise, but quickly recovered. "That's right, and you'll end up right in the heart of the Slytherin common room. Right after supper, when ALL of them are there."   
"Well, isn't that just a cup of tea?" she snorted, then grasped a handful of powder. "They can't possibly be worse than the Malfoy Dungeons or _your aunt_. Guess I'll have to do a bit of spring cleaning in Slytherin House." She marched over the fireplace and stepped inside as he watched her, open-mouthed.   
"Ginny…Ginny!"   
"Hogwarts, Slythe…" she doubled over, wincing in pain.   
"Ginny…" he rushed towards her, hands outstretched. "Wait…"   
"Hogwarts, Slytherin House!" she cried, and tossed the Floo Powder into the ashes. With a flash, Lucius Malfoy's eerie bedroom faded into the dusk.   
  
  
  
  
"Ginny!" Draco cried as she disappeared in a flash of green fire. "Bloody HELL!"   
"Master…Master Draco, sir…what is you doing?" Tenny asked tentively. "Does you not like…why would you be telling young Miss not to return to Hogwarts, sir?"   
"Don't ask me foolish questions!" he snapped, reaching for the Floo Powder. _If she goes to Slytherin_… He didn't even want to think of the consequences. On top of that, she was back at Hogwarts…   
"Tenny, tell my mother I've returned to Hogwarts. And that I know about tomorrow night." He marched into the fireplace. "Hogwarts, Slytherin House!"   
In a blaze of green he was gone.   
  
  
  
  
Ginny whirled into the big stone fireplace, tumbling out of the hearth with a yelp. She'd overdone the Floo Powder, she'd been so mad at Malfoy.   
She pushed herself up off the thickly woven carpet, coughing, and surveyed the scene through the haze of ash and smoke.   
A long, low room surrounded the hearth, lit by silver etched candelabras. An enormous silver and green banner was draped across one of descending staircases. In front of the elaborate mantelpiece stood several high-backed chairs, upholstered in lush greens and silvers.   
The room was very rich and delicate, in contrast to the comforts of Gryffindor, and might have made an elegant picture had it not been for the thirty or so faces disrupting its with their open-mouthed stares.   
Pansy Parkinson was the first to move; she walked slowly to Ginny, fanning away the haze with one hand. Her other clutched her wand, already in attack position.   
"Weasley?" she stuttered.   
"Hullo, Pansy," Ginny said, lifting her chin. "Fancy meeting you here."   
"What is she _doing_?" cried a squeaky voiced First Year, pointing a thin finger at her.   
The majority of the Slytherins remained silent, still staring at her in shock. Except for Millicent Bulstrode, who marched towards the pair of them determinedly, a scraggly looking black-gray cat clutched in her arms.   
"What are you doing in here, Weasley? How did you manage to open a Floo?"   
"That's really none of your concern. As it is, I think its time I left."   
Millicent dropped her cat. "I think we'll be the ones to decide who leaves _our_ common room. And _when_."   
A great blaze of green fire burst forth from the fireplace, and Draco Malfoy tumbled out, landing on top of her unceremoniously and showering Pansy, Millicent and a nearby round of third years in ash and smoke.   
Draco scrambled off of her, coughing, and reached down to pull her to her feet. "Are you all right?"   
"I'm fine," came the response from behind the cloud of smoke. Pansy moved in closer to Draco. "How about you?"   
Draco dropped Ginny's hand. "Fine."   
He glanced over at Ginny worriedly; she crossed her arms and glared at him (as best she could, anyway, given the smoke.)   
"_Honestly, _" sighed a nearby voice. "_Evanesca. _"   
In a flash, the haze of smoke and dust dissipated. Blaise Zabini lowered her wand, looking rather pleased with herself.   
"Draco!" Pansy cried, throwing herself on top of him. "We were so worried! Everyone's been wondering, even Professor Snape, he almost came down to check on you himself!"   
Ginny gritted her teeth and turned away from them. _Pansy's such a…a twit! _   
Draco managed to wrestle out of her grasp, wincing. "I'm fine. I ran into a bit of trouble at the Ministry, is all."   
"They knew?" Ginny whirled around. "They knew about this whole thing along?"   
Draco's eyes widened at her. "Of course they knew…er…_WEASLEY. _ What…you think the Slytherins could care about that half-wit of a half-giant or his _pets? _"   
Half of the common room laughed lightly; the other half continued to stare at the two of them in confusion.   
"What happened, Draco?" asked Theodore Nott. "How did you end up with her?"   
He crossed his arms, looking rather put-off. "She actually _followed_ me into the Floo."   
"WHAT?" Pansy said. "We knew she had been missing, but the Gryffindors never let on that she'd left school."   
"Does she know about the forest?"   
"What, about…"   
Draco seized her rather roughly by the shoulder. "Of _course_ she knows about the creatures. She's friends with Potter, isn't she?"   
"Let GO of me!" Ginny cried, shaking loose from his grasp and backhanding him in the chest.   
He doubled over.   
"Draco!" Pansy pushed her aside as she grabbed him again, knocking her into Millicent Bulstrode. "Look at you! You've been hurt—badly!"   
"Odd," the troll-like girl said, ignoring Pansy and seizing Ginny roughly instead, "that your brother wouldn't let Dumbledore know you'd been gone."   
Ginny struggled lightly, but she was still weak, and ached from the Cruciatus Curse. "Odd, indeed. But as he will be looking for me, I suggest you _let me go. _"   
"I can't believe you! You're horrid!" Pansy turned to her, her pug face red. "You did this to Draco, didn't you?"   
Millicent tightened her grasp; Ginny gritted her teeth and tried to ignore the pains shooting through her body.   
"Let her go, Milly," Draco gasped, pushing out of Pansy's arms. "This is for me to deal with."   
She raised an eyebrow. He stood, raising his chin, and stared at her imperiously. After a moment, she released Ginny.   
Avery came over to them. "This would be much easier to explain, Draco, if we helped. At least we could prevent your getting into trouble."   
"No. They'll be missing her. Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't forget the Slytherins. Or rather, that she forgets them _completely_." He twirled his wand lightly through his thin fingers.   
"Come on, _Weasley_," he spat, grabbing Ginny, and shoving her up the few stone steps leading to a brick wall. Draco tapped on it with his wand, and the wall slid aside.   
She had one final glance at the Slytherins, staring at her hatefully, before he shoved her roughly out the door.   
  
  
  
  
Harry shut his Potions book, and lay his quill aside. Hermione's homework lay untouched; her large pile of books, usually spread all over the Gryffindor tables, were in a neat stack by her satchel. She had one hand on her chin, and tapped her quill lightly over a clean piece of parchment.   
Ron was buried in _Quidditch Through the Ages_; it was the only thing that could distract him from Ginny long enough for any of them to have some peace and quiet.   
Professor Lupin had sent them another owl; it was late in the evening, quite a few hours after they'd received Malfoy's owl, and most of the other Gryffindors had gone to bed.   
_"Have you found her? _" he had inquired. _"If not, I'm speaking with Arthur tomorrow. This isn't something they should be kept out of." _   
Ron had looked rather petrified at the idea of his parents knowing—Dumbledore was one thing, Molly Weasley, quite something else—but in the end, agreed with Lupin. His parents would have to know.   
They responded that they would tell the Weasley's in the morning. Which meant they would probably be at Hogwarts by lunchtime.   
Hermione sighed, and placed her quill on the table. "I can't do this anymore. I'm going to take a turn about the halls…check for unruly students."   
"I'll go with you." Ron said quickly. "If I re-read the history of the golden snidget one more time, I'll run mad."   
"Harry?" Hermione said, turning to him. He started to shake his head, but both looked at him rather anxiously.   
"All right," he said. The exited the portrait hole, and turned down the main hallway, to the stairs.   
"Technically," said Harry, "I'm not supposed to be doing this. I suppose it'll be alright, with two prefects, but you two should really be alone."   
Ron turned his head away, coughing, and, though Harry couldn't be sure, thought he saw Hermione blush. He glanced between them confusedly.   
"We'll cover for you, mate, don't worry. Its just…better when we're all together."   
"Right. As it keeps Ron in check."   
"And makes Hermione less bossy…"   
"And Ron less of a knit…"   
"And…"   
"Let's go down the main staircase," said Harry, interrupting them. "That way it'll look like we're coming from the library, or something."   
They both turned to him, surprised, as though they'd forgotten he was there.   
Harry rolled his eyes. They were his best friends, and both prefects, but there were times when even Hermione seemed to take leave of her senses.   
They wandered through the halls, stopping into the Great Hall for a moment, then the library, and turned back to the entrance, in front of the doors.   
"I just wish I knew _something_," Ron muttered after they had started up the main staircase. "She might be annoying at times, but…"   
"We know, Ron," said Hermione, her tone a bit thick. "Ginny will be fine, I'm sure. She can take care of herself, you know…"   
"I know, but…"   
"WAIT A MOMENT!"   
"Get _OFF! _"   
Harry whirled around, staring down at the left hand corner of the stairs, where a very familiar voice was echoing just beyond the pools of light provided by the torches. Ron's eyes widened.   
"I've told you before, you don't understand. Let me explain!"   
"I said, _get off_!" Ginny Weasley turned the corner, struggling with someone in the shadows.   
Before Harry or Hermione could do anything, Ron was racing down the steps, pulling out his wand..   
_"Let her go…MALFOY!" _   
Draco Malfoy's face swam into view, turning in surprise at the blur of red and gold racing towards him.   
_" STUPEFY!" _   
  
  
  
  
Ginny limped up the Dungeon stairs as Malfoy watched the wall slide closed behind him. The moment it had, he rushed forward to catch her.   
"Have you gone mad? Why would you decide to throw yourself into the middle of Slytherin House in the condition you're in?"   
"Oh, I'm sorry. Worried were we?" she mocked. "Well, you didn't need me to worry about you, and I _don't_ need you to worry about me."   
He stared at her for a moment. All trace of his attitude earlier was gone. "I…"   
"What?"   
"You really should see Madam Pomfrey."   
"Oh, really? I wasn't really feeling _that badly_ after being hit by the Cruciatus Curse MORE TIMES THAN I CAN REMEMBER! I thought I'd go to bed with a glass of milk. That should fix everything!"   
He looked startled, and took a step back. "I've already apologized for that. What more can I say?"   
"SAY? You "SAY" nothing! Its what you can _do_…or rather, what you should have _done. _"   
He looked at her quizzically. "Done?"   
She stopped, her fists clenched, and turned to face him. "You _should_ have come with me into Slytherin in the first place, instead of making me go there on my own because you didn't want to be associated with me. You _should_ have defended me when Pansy and Millicent Bulstrode and everyone else looked like they wanted to put my head on a pike. You _should_ have told them I'd been subjected to an Illegal Curse while at your house and you _should_ have told them not to push me around so roughly. And _you_ shouldn't have tossed me about as though I was some…some poor, beaten down House Elf who would fear you because you're a Slytherin!" She put a hand to her face—tears were coursing down her cheeks, though she hadn't realized it.   
"Ginny, most of that was an act. There is no way _any_ of this would make sense to the Slytherins, particularly to those we saw just now. Most of their parents are Death Eaters…they'd be proud of what Bella did. And besides," he said, crossing his arms. "I didn't want you to go to your house because I didn't want to be associated with you. It's…"   
"Oh, no?" she spat suddenly, interrupting him. "What about… 'I'll make sure she forgets _all_ about the Slytherins'." She raised her wand, mimicking his wand twirl, then limped up the steps, leaving him behind.   
"Wait a minute! There is more to this! You don't understand!"   
"Maybe not, but I really don't care, either!" she hissed.   
"WAIT A MOMENT!"   
He marched up behind her, grabbing her gently. She twisted around, trying to wrench out of his grasp, but his long fingers had closed about tightly about her wrist, and her arms were still weak.   
"Get _OFF. _"   
"I've told you before—you don't understand everything," he cried in a frustrated tone. "Let me explain."   
"I said, _get off! _" Ginny yelled, trying to pull away from him. They'd made their way into the Entrance Hall, and as she turned the corner, a red blur rushed past her, yanking her arm out of Malfoy's grasp.   
"_Let her go…MALFOY! STUPEFY! _"   
The stunner slammed into Draco, throwing him back against the stone tiles. Thankfully Ron wasn't powerful enough to do any real damage, but that didn't make the situation any better, for as soon as Ron saw Malfoy move, he bolted for him.   
Ginny backed away in shock as Harry and Hermione tore around the corner, each wearing a look of utter surprise. Harry was the first to react, racing to reach them as Ron's hands closed about Draco's neck. Hermione was right behind him, and the two managed to pull him off long enough for Draco to slip free of his grasp, cowering on the floor beneath them, one hand massaging his neck.   
Ron continued to struggled with them as Ginny walked over to Malfoy, stretching out her hand. He refused it, and staggered to his feet, wiping the blood away from his nose and mouth, and glaring hatefully at Ron.   
"_WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SISTER!! _" Ron yelled, his face a strange shade of purple. Harry and Hermione were struggling to keep him in check.   
"He didn't do anything to me," Ginny replied. "He's been hurt too." She motioned to Malfoy's shirt. "He was attacked by a manticore."   
"A _manticore_?" Hermione said, dropping Ron's arm in surprise. She promptly seized it again as he lunged at Malfoy, knocking Harry's glasses off his nose.   
"I _don't_ need _you_ to defend me!" Malfoy spat, his eyes narrowed, though he did step back. "Let him come."   
"Shut UP! You've done enough damage for one day!" Ginny cried, seizing his hand and shoving the Prefect Pin back into it.   
Malfoy's stared down at the pin for a moment. When he looked at her again, his face had grown dark, and hateful. "If something does happen to you, then its on _your_ head."   
"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed. Ron had stopped struggling and was staring at the pin in Malfoy's hand. "What's supposed to happen, Malfoy?"   
"Is there any particular reason for this racket, Potter, or are you attempting to go down in Hogwarts history as having lost the most House points in a seven-year term?"   
They turned to the other side of the staircase. Professor Snape, a dark robe wrapped around him, was holding up a his lit wand and staring at them distastefully. Coming up behind him was Argus Filch, who was grinning in delight, Mrs. Norris in hand.   
"'s been a long time since I got four prefects AND a Potter all in one night."   
  
  
  
  
"Utterly ridiculous," huffed Professor McGonagall, dressed in her tartan robe and slippers. She looked careworn and tired, which was customary these days. "Three Prefects. _Prefects! _ And you, Mister Potter," she pointed a spindly finger at Harry, who was seated and pensive. "You certainly know better than this."   
"Yes Professor," he said absently.   
She pursed her lips at him, looking annoyed, but instead turned to Ginny. "Miss Weasley, would you mind explaining where you received those wounds?"   
Ginny's hand flew up to her neck. "Quidditch Practice."   
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Is that what had you out of classes for today?"   
"No…I…wasn't feeling quite well, Professor. This didn't help, of course."   
"Hmm…" replied the teacher, looking shrewdly at Ginny. "Well, go on then and see Madam Pomfrey.   
"As for the rest of you, Gryffindor will lose 20 points a piece for your little after-hours excursions. Thank heavens we're ahead again this year! But you will have to serve detention, Mister Weasley, for engaging in a duel in the halls. This is certainly not the kind of behavior Professor Dumbledore or myself wish to see displayed by those who are to be examples for others."   
They nodded in unison.   
"Your detention will be tomorrow night, Mister Weasley. Come and see me after your last class."   
"Yes, Professor," Ron said, bowing his head under her beady-eyed stare.   
"Now go on and escort your sister to the Hospital Wing. The rest of you can return to the Common Room. Oh, and no more "rounds" without letting someone—namely myself—know about it, is that clear?"   
"Yes, Professor," repeated Hermione, Ron and Ginny.   
They separated from Hermione and Harry at the Second Floor main corridor, Ron and Ginny heading to the Hospital Wing, Hermione waving a quick goodbye and walking with Harry, who still looked lost in thought, down the hall towards Gryffindor Tower.   
Her limp was gone, and she felt much better than before. But she took her time in the halls. Ron walked beside her in silence, though she caught him staring her up and down a few times.   
"I'm fine, Ron."   
He shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered, "You don't look fine."   
"Nothing happened to me." She felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but if he ever found out what had really happened, he was liable to kill Malfoy before breakfast.   
"We were _worried_, Ginny. We didn't know where you'd gone, Harry wanted to go to Professor Dumbledore…"   
"_Harry_ wanted to go?"   
Ron looked confused. "Of course he wanted to go…eventually. We all did."   
"I just thought…Harry's always so…what stopped him?"   
"Hermione…and Grawp."   
"_Grawp? _"   
"Well, it was Hermione's not wanting anyone to find out about Grawp. She thought it would be best to 'let you handle it' if you could. She was worried about you, of course. Then there was the note from…from…" He looked completely disgusted. "From _HIM_."   
Ginny stopped mid-stride. "Him? You mean Malfoy? He sent a note?"   
Ron turned to look at her. "Yeah."   
"What did it say?"   
"It said you were alright." His face twisted. "_Him. _ Assuring us. That was probably the _worst_ part of this whole thing."   
"When did this note come?"   
"Earlier today…I don't remember exactly when…around Dinnertime, I think. He sent it to Hermione."   
Ginny's mouth dropped open. "_To Hermione? _"   
"Yeah. No…that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was _her_ telling _us_ that we could _trust him_." He was wearing the same expression he always did when, for some reason, he started throwing things at his Victor Krum poster. "Hermione. Defending _Malfoy. _"   
He turned to her. "But she seemed to think that something happened between the two of you in the woods. Is that true, Ginny?"   
Ginny felt her face heating, and she briskly strode by him. "Other than my bringing him to his knees in humiliation, no."   
"But Hermione said that you thought there was something…and that pin…your hand…"   
She glanced down. Malfoy's tie was still wrapped around her injured hand, the Slytherin crest just visible beneath her fingers. She clenched at it, and a small wave of pain shot up her arm from the wound in her palm.   
"I was wrong. I have hope for everyone, Ron…just like she does. But this time, I think I was very much mistaken. The pin…and this…they mean nothing." She unwrapped her hand, shoving the tie into her pocket. And clenched her fist, ignoring the burning pain in her palm, so Ron couldn't make out the snake etched there.   
He didn't reply, but he looked slightly better. At least, his color had returned to normal.   
Madam Pomfrey was standing outside the Hospital Wing door in her night robes, looking somewhat tired and slightly frazzled. "Twice in two evenings, Miss Weasley? Well, then, come along! Figures that halfway through a good night's sleep there would be something going on! Its not like I haven't seen it before. Come on in…as soon as I've examined her you can leave, Mister Weasley. It will only take a few moments…Professor McGonagall wanted you back in Gryffindor the moment you found out she's alright."   
  
  
  
  
"I am rather surprised that you would take such a foolhardy risk, given you class standing as of late, Draco."   
Draco was slumped in one of Professor's Snape's chairs, watching the teacher, who had lain his hands lightly atop his desk. He'd been very patient, allowing Draco quite a few moments of silence before he had asked him to explain. Which, about the Dark Forest, anyhow—minus actually _finding_ Grawp—he had.   
"I'm sorry, Professor."   
"Beyond your attempt to incriminate Hagrid, Potter and Granger, what were you doing in the halls this late at night? And with Potter and his friends? This wasn't another foolish attempt at dueling, was it? I had believed you had given that up in your second year."   
"No, Professor…I…its quite a long story, sir."   
The Potions Master eyed him shrewdly. "I see."   
"I…"   
"Yes?"   
"I think I should really go to the Hospital Wing, Professor."   
Professor Snape sighed, but nodded. "Very well, Draco. We can discuss your nighttime outings later, along with the prudence of believing everything Potter lets you overhear. There will be thirty points deducted from Slytherin House. And please, no more excursions into the Dark Forest. Unless you actually _catch_ them doing something."   
"Yes, sir." Draco felt guilty, lying to the Professor about the giant and the events in the Ministry. But neither Grawp, nor a manticore, were as important as what was coming.   
He rose, moving slowly towards the door, thinking. "Professor?"   
Professor Snape, who'd been gathering his things, turned to him. "Yes, Draco?"   
"What if I'd found something out…something that might be harmful to Dumbledore and some of the students? I don't know if its true or not…but it might be."   
"Professor Dumbledore," corrected Snape, one eyebrow raised. "What have you learned of that might involve the Headmaster? Something hidden in the Dark Forest?"   
"Not…exactly."   
Professor Snape rose, and moved over to Draco. "We've spoken of the necessity to rectify certain _practices_ at this school. But that does not mean the school itself is useless or that its students have no value. There is an obligation to this school that all professors take, and that is that it must be protected. Even your father, whatever his opinion on Dumbledore's enrollment policy, believed that."   
"Yes professor," Draco replied, lowering his head to avoid the Snape's gaze. "If…if I learn of anything, I'll be sure to let you know."   
He could feel Snape watching him as he moved from the door, but the Potions Master said nothing else to him.   
He wasn't sure _what_ to do. His aunt was completely mad; she might just have been talking, back at the Manor. And yet, his mother had believed her.   
But he'd not received word from her yet. He was surprised she hadn't sent an owl already—Tenny would have told her he was gone almost immediately. If there was any _chance_ of harm, his mother would have sent word for him to come home. Or to warn him. Especially seeing he was aware of what might occur.   
If he told Snape now, and Hogwarts really was attacked, they would be better prepared. The Floo in Slytherin would probably remain open. They could get the students out.   
If they didn't know, and Bellatrix attacked, it would be the Professors, on their own, with no one to assist them in defending the school.   
But if it was a hoax…he would be in serious trouble. They'd know about his traveling out of Hogwarts, about the Floo—about Ginny…   
He shook his head. _Impossible, that Dumbledore wouldn't know of an army of Dementors being amassed for an attack on the castle. He's not that much of a fool. The whole thing was contrived by my aunt…probably to worry Mother. She likes to do that. _   
Yet she'd instructed Narcissa to warn the Slytherins and the other Death Eaters. Bellatrix wouldn't upset the other followers of the Dark Lord just to pull a prank.   
Maybe the students really were in danger.   
Ginny Weasley's face flashed before him.   
"I don't care!" he growled. Ginny Weasley, nor her brother or her friends, were of any concern to him. Let them be attacked.   
_Have you murdered anybody, then? You are not your father. Not yet. _   
"SHUT UP!"   
"I'm terribly sorry. Had I realized my thoughts were this loud, I would never have begun to think them."   
Draco jumped. Professor Dumbledore was coming down the steps from the Hospital Wing, a large parchment in hand.   
"Professor…I'm sorry, sir."   
"No need to apologize, Mister Malfoy. You are as entitled to your opinion of my thoughts as anyone else."   
Draco maintained a straight face. Dumbledore was really off his rocker, but he was the Headmaster, after all.   
"Are you going to the Hospital Wing, Mister Malfoy? Those wounds look as though they need to be tended."   
"Yes sir."   
"Miss Weasley, I understand, has already been this evening as well. That is four rather serious injuries in two evenings. A strange occurrence, even with certain other more _adventuresome_ students in the school."   
Draco paused on the steps as Dumbledore watched him beneath the rim of his half-moon glasses.   
"Headmaster?"   
"Yes?"   
Draco remained silent for a moment.   
"Is there something you want to tell me, Mister Malfoy?"   
He raised his eyes to the Professor. Despite his rather jovial appearance, there had always been something somewhat cold in those blue eyes. Something old, and wise, and shrewd. Like he was waiting for Draco to make just the right move. Or the wrong one.   
"No sir."   
Dumbledore continued to watch him, one eyebrow raised. "Very well, then. Madam Pomfrey is expecting you, I believe.   
"Take care, Mister Malfoy," he called behind him as he continued down the steps. "Those wounds may come a little closer to your heart the next time around."   
Draco shook his head, and wondered how someone like that could have become the Headmaster of Hogwarts.   
The hospital wing was rather silent when he arrived, as he expected it to be, this time of night. Madam Pomfrey was in the far corner, tending to someone in the last bed.   
"Just drink this, and you'll be able to sleep a little better."   
"I'm really quite all right…"   
Draco froze, recognizing the voice immediately.   
_I thought she'd be gone by now! _   
"Now, now, Miss Weasley. As you won't explain to me everything that happened, I can't make a proper diagnosis, but I can tell you that I've seen just about everything in these halls that could possibly happen to a person, wizard or muggle, and I have gotten fairly good at making diagnosis. Now DRINK."   
Ginny sat up, and sipped the cup Madam Pomfrey handed her, wrinkling her nose at the smell. He started to back away, but both turned towards him.   
"Hello, Mister Malfoy, I've been told to expect you as well…_again? _"   
"I…uh…"   
Ginny narrowed her eyes, but touched Madam Pomfrey's arm lightly, handing her back the cup. "He's hurt too, Madam Pomfrey. He had a run in with one of Hagrid's pets."   
Madam Pomfrey tutted, and came towards him. "It'll be fairly serious, I expect. Or, is it? What was it this time, Mister Malfoy…a flobberworm? Dugbog?" She looked slightly amused, and Draco blushed, remembering the fuss he'd made over Buckbeak.   
"Manticore," Ginny piped seriously, then flopped over on her side.   
"A MANTICORE!" Madam Pomfrey grabbed Draco's arm, ushering him to a bed. "Honestly! I had no idea he had something so dangerous roaming about! Next thing you know he'll have a Nundu stalking about the premises like Mrs. Norris!"   
She pulled open his shirt, eyes widening at the inflamed claw marks across his chest. "Good heavens! I'm going to have a talk with Hagrid about this first thing tomorrow."   
"Er…that's not necessary," Draco mumbled. "It's already gone. I think he only had it for class."   
She was rummaging through one of her cabinets, pulling out bandages and vials. "Of course…at least that's what he says. After all, Hagrid is Hagrid."   
"No, Madam Pomfrey, Malfoy's right. Hagrid took it back to the Ministry of Magic this morning after class," said Ginny from across the room.   
Madam Pomfrey glanced back and forth between the two beds, sighed, and bent to treat Draco's wounds with a yellow colored salve. It smelled like saltwater, and felt remarkably refreshing.   
"Someone's already treated these wounds—thank goodness for that, or they might be much more serious than they already are. Just let the salve work overnight," she continued, wrapping his chest in bandages. "They should be healed by tomorrow morning, although there will be just a little bit of scarring…but that too should heal with time."   
He re-buttoned his shirt, looking back towards the covered lump in the last bed.   
"Well, you can return to your dormitory, Mister Malfoy. Miss Weasley, I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. And keep that bandage on your hand, or you'll be permanently scarred."   
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey," they said in unison. Draco flushed; the mound that was Ginny shifted uncomfortably, pulling the covers up to her ears.   
The nurse left the main room and retreated to her chambers alongside, closing the door tightly. Draco stood, glancing over at Ginny for a moment, before turning for the door.   
"I don't understand this," came a muffled voice from beneath the sheets. "Just a few hours ago things were so _different. _"   
Draco raised a hand, rubbing his eyes. There was no use pretending he didn't know what she meant. "That was because things _are_ different—outside of school. But now we've returned, and everything has to be normal again."   
"Being horrid, and cruel? That is normal for you? To be awful and unfeeling and mean? Why?" Ginny sat up, tossing the covers aside. "You really want to be this way?"   
Draco walked over to the end of her bed. "Do you really believe that I'm horrid and awful and cruel to everyone? Do you think the people in my House really believe that?"   
She opened her mouth, then shut it again, looking bewildered. "It never _occurred_ to you that perhaps I'm only horrid and awful and cruel to people like Potter and Weasley. Because they're not exactly the knights in shining armor everyone makes them out to be. They've insulted my mother, my family, my House…even my _name_…over and over again. They've attacked me, and other members of Slytherin. And they go about breaking rules and completely disrespecting what this school stands for. But they are glorified, or rather, Potter is—simply because he's _famous. _"   
"He's not glorified because he's famous. He—and Hermione and everyone else—they're glorified because they _care_. The people in Slytherin might have been attacked, but they've attacked in turn. The Slytherins might care about each other, but they don't care about anyone else. Harry and the rest _do_. Do you think that if this school was threatened, they wouldn't do what they could to protect _all_ the students? They'd save the Slytherins, even if they didn't want to, because they believe that it's the life, not the lineage, that's important."   
A wave of electricity washed through him as she spoke. _Tomorrow…_   
"Wha—what makes you say that?"   
"I'm trying to prove a point, Malfoy. To show you the difference between you and Harry."   
"I know what the difference between myself and _Potter_ is," he snapped, perhaps more forcefully than he should.   
"Of course. He's not a pure-blood, at least not in terms of what you think it means. Well, that's fine, Malfoy. Then, what about me?"   
"What about you?"   
"I'm a pure-blood. I've _been_ a witch my entire life. What are the differences between us?"   
Draco searched her face. "That should be obvious. You love muggle borns. And you hate the Slytherins."   
"I don't hate the Slytherins. I've never really been given a reason to. Just like I've never really been given a reason to hate you."   
He remembered her face in the forest, glaring at him. "You have, though. You've hated me."   
"I haven't. You might be horrid at times, Draco Malfoy, but I've never hated you. Voldemort, your aunt—yes. Because they hurt people. They _kill_ people. Your father, because of what he did to me. But never you."   
Something inside his chest loosened. "Ginny…"   
"Before you say anything else, there's something I want to know. Something I've always wanted to know. Why do you hate—I mean, really _hate_—the muggle-borns so much? Other than that you've been taught to hate them. What's the _reason? _"   
He turned aside, dropping his shoulders. _The reason…_   
His parents, painstakingly introducing him to the history of wizards. His mother, teaching him their stories out of the books in her study. His father, pointing out the great accomplishments of the wizarding world with pride. And then…having to hide, when he was five, from a stray band of muggles who'd wandered too close to the Manor. Being teased by muggles when he went out in public, because of his robes, and not understanding why. Never been allowed to soar above the treetops on his brooms, because he might be _seen. _   
"Because they're destroying us."   
"Destroying us?"   
"Muggles have sent us into hiding. Their children come into our world, trying to change it because its different from what they were taught. And wizards now, even pure-blood wizards, believe traditions should be upended because they are out of date and unfair to muggles. Our world is disappearing, buried beneath muggle rules and muggle protections. And those that are _making it so_ are celebrated and applauded!"   
"But…that's not death…that's change. Its happened for centuries. We went into hiding because we wanted to—to prevent deaths on both side. Most of us have accepted that—embraced it. The forms might change, and some of the traditions—but our world has never disappeared. And it never will. We wouldn't let it." "Of course you would believe that, because your parents believe that. But have you ever had to hide from the muggles? Have you ever had to run for fear they might discover you? Or what you were?"   
She remained silent.   
"_That's_ what I hate about them. We're superior to them, yet they control _us. _"   
"So then…its better to see them all die? To see all of us die?"   
"Die?"   
"What do you think Voldemort is going to do? Kill Harry and be done with it all? He's going to destroy people—a _lot_ of people. Muggles and wizards, muggle-borns and pure-bloods, like me…he's going to destroy us all. And the blood that is shed will not only be on the hands of people who did the slaying, but on those who _didn't_ try and stop it."   
"Then maybe that's what needs to be."   
"WHAT?!" Ginny leaped out of her bed, coming to him. "You don't believe that!"   
"Says who?" He frowned, his eyes narrowing. "I've always believed that. wizards—pure-blood wizards—are superior to everyone. They should survive, even if the others die. Its what my father believes, what my family has believed for generations. What the Dark Lord is doing is acting on what should have been done a long time ago. So that it didn't have to come to this."   
"No—you don't believe that. Not really," she whispered.   
"But I do. You see? You were wrong about me. I _am_ my father. I was my father a long time ago. I can't change how I feel. It's too late to change anything now."   
Her eyes filled with tears. He expected her to back away, but instead she drew close to him, wrapping her arms about him. "No. The boy who saved me today, he is _not_Lucius Malfoy. Lucius would not have stayed behind, facing a manticore, to make sure a common, muggle-loving, poor girl would be all right. He wouldn't have tumbled down a cliff to make sure no harm to came to her. And he wouldn't have risked his life, his honor, and his family pride to make sure she escaped from harm.   
"He would have let me die, Draco. But you _did not. _"   
His hands hovered above her, and finally settled on her shoulders, pushing her away. "The boy who saved you today _does not exist. _ He was an illusion. A flaw. Someone who forgot who he _really_ was. And _what_ he really was."   
Her lips were trembling, but her tone was steady and controlled, as though she didn't realize she was crying. "No. You _found_ who you really want to be. You have changed. Even if you don't love the muggles, even if you still think you and the Slytherins are superior, _you have changed_. Malfoy is who you were. Today, you got to be Draco. That is who you _are_."   
He released her, and grabbed her hand, tracing the shape of the snake buried beneath the bandages. "This is who I am. Tonight, I go back to Slytherin, and everyone who knows me will remind me of that. And everything I've believed will come back to me, and I'll remember why I am what I am. Tomorrow, you'll be back in Gryffindor, with your Malfoy-detesting brother. He, and Potter, and Granger, will make you believe that your world is what's right. And you'll understand the difference between us. We'll both wake up and I'll hate them, and they'll hate me, and everything will be as it was. We can't change that, no matter what happened today."   
"You're right, we can't. We can't change what's been, or even some of what is. But, Draco," she said softly, moving next to him. "We can change _enough_."   
Her face was only inches from his. He felt strange; his heart was racing, and he couldn't breathe. Her words echoed in his ears. All he wanted to do was leave, to return to the comfort of Slytherin. "Good night, Ginny."   
He left her standing by her bedside, her arms wrapped around her, tears streaming down her face.   
  
  
  
  
By the time Draco returned to the Slytherin Common room, everyone had gone to bed for the night, save Pansy, Milly, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott. They turned as he walked slowly in, Nott raising a hand in greeting, Pansy rushing over to him.   
"Are you better, Draco?"   
He turned his head away from her outstretched hand. "Leave me alone, Pansy. I'm fine."   
He wasn't, though. Ginny's voice still rang in his ears, her face flashed through his mind. He could still feel her against him, leaning her head softly against his chin, her hair sparkling in the dim light.   
He had no idea how to resolve this. He was utterly confused. Everything he was belonged here—_he_ belonged here. He'd wanted nothing more than to be a Slytherin for the whole of his life. There was comfort, in this room, and in the faces of his friends, which were now staring at him in concern.   
But were the ideals wrong? Had she been right?   
He threw himself into an armchair.   
"What's wrong, Draco? Did Snape punish you?" asked Crabbe.   
"No. We lost thirty points."   
Milly's face twisted slightly at this—she hated to lose, particularly when Gryffindor was in the lead.   
Pansy was seated on the ottoman closest to him. "What about Weasley…she didn't get you in trouble, did she?"   
"No," he said as casually as he could, rubbing his forehead. "She's been taken care of."   
"Good. For a moment, we were worried."   
Draco glanced at him in alarm. "About what?"   
"Well, you know how close she is to Potter! She could have twisted that whole thing around and gotten you in serious trouble." She inched closer to him. "My poor Draco…trapped with her that whole time."   
"What _exactly_ happened?" asked Milly. "Why didn't you get to the Ministry?"   
"We got caught up in the Floo. We ended up…we got lost, and had to go to the Manor."   
"The Manor!" said Milly, her face lighting with glee. "I bet she _loved_ that. Did your mother get to meet her? I'm amazed the brat survived."   
Draco stared at her, surprised by the wicked smile that lit up her face. Had she always looked like that?   
"She doesn't know about our parents, does she?" asked Pansy in consternation. "You know…what goes on there?"   
"No. She only got to see my room. And…"   
Pansy stared at him "YOUR ROOM?"   
"And the Dungeons," he added, though he felt guilty for doing so.   
Pansy looked slightly mollified, although at this point he really didn't care what she thought.   
"Speaking of the Manor," said Goyle. "Your mother sent an owl earlier." He reached behind him, and handed Draco a letter. "Is anything the matter?"   
Draco shrugged, and tore it open:   
  
_Return to the Manor IMMEDIATELY. I do not know how you found out, but I assure you your aunt will show you no mercy if she discovers you know of her plot. She is already angry about the girl.   
Tell the other Slytherins; their parents will be trying to contact them, but might encounter difficulty with the repelling spells. The Floo will be open starting tomorrow at noon—I want you to be the first one to use it. The others can make due for themselves.   
  
Mother_   
  
  
Draco stared at the note. It was going to pass. Hogwarts was going to be attacked, and destroyed, tomorrow night. And Ginny, and everyone else, would be at the mercy of his aunt and her army of Dementors, without any warning.   
The other Slytherins were watching him in confusion.   
"Draco?" said Milly.   
He crumpled the note in his fist. "I'm off to bed."   
He rose, and started up the stairs, leaving the others behind. If Hogwarts was going to be destroyed, they would be saved together—_all_ of them—or destroyed with it.   
  
  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione went to see to Ginny the next morning. She was doing much better, according to Madam Pomfrey, and could be released in time for classes. Ron questioned this, of course, as she still rather pale, and her eyes were red-rimmed, but Madam Pomfrey assure them (with pursed lips) that she was quite well.   
They arrived at the Great Hall in time for breakfast, and Ginny came in a little while later, glancing around the hall before sitting down.   
"Fuhliln B'er?" Ron asked through a mouthful of porridge and biscuit. Ginny nodded, helping herself to some toast and marmalade.   
Hermione was slowly spreading butter on her toast, glancing up at the high windows in the Great Hall periodically.   
"What's wrong, Hermione?" Harry asked.   
"Odd…the owl that delivers the Daily Prophet should have been here by now."   
Harry glanced up. The Hall, which normally buzzed with morning mail deliveries, was strangely empty of owl traffic.   
"Because the repelling charms have been reversed," said Luna Lovegood, coming up behind them. She eyed Ron as he continued to shovel porridge into his mouth. "Porridge and biscuits are quite good."   
He nodded, smiling at her through cheeks full of food.   
"Impossible" huffed Hermione, glaring at Ron for no particular reason. "There are hundreds of repelling charms that surround Hogwarts. As mentioned in…"   
"_Hogwarts, a History_," said Harry, Ginny, and Neville in unison.   
Hermione frowned, but returned her attention to Luna "Anyways…as it says in _Hogwarts, A History_, there are hundreds of spells that protect the castle. For anyone to do such a thing, they'd would have to know the school completely."   
"People at the Ministry know Hogwarts completely," returned Luna, staring at her with a vacant expression.   
"And, of course, people at the Ministry have just suddenly decided that Hogwarts needs to be seen and unprotected."   
"Some might," Luna said lightly, her eyes trailing from Neville's Potions notes to Ginny's palm. "How else could they go about kidnapping the teachers and replacing them with trained kelpies?"   
Ron snorted into his porridge, spraying everyone around him with half chewed food. Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione, who's vexed expression had disappeared—or at least seemed so, as she had covered her face with her napkin to hide the odd, strangled noises she was making..   
"It's already happened with Professor Vector. He was looking rather green yesterday afternoon. Its supposed to be Professor Snape, next, after Professor Sprout, of course. You have a snake," she motioned to Ginny.   
"Professor Vector is _fine_," said Hermione, her napkin still at her mouth. "And I'm sure Professor Sprout will be able to defend herself."   
"Eric Jordan—he's a First year, Ravenclaw—swears he saw her heading to the lake yesterday afternoon. But I think…"   
"Cho is waving at you, Luna," said Ginny, motioning with her head. Her left hand was under the table.   
Cho Chang was indeed trying to catch Luna's attention, although she was careful not to look in Harry's direction.   
Harry frowned and turned away until Luna had walked off. He really felt nothing for Cho, now, but was still vexed that she treated him as though he was no better than a twig at the end of her Quidditch broom. She had _kissed_ him, after all. Hermione finally lowered her napkin, her grin fading only after seeing the cross look on Harry's face. She frowned at him, but said nothing.   
"I see Malfoy's back…and looking more evil than ever," said Ron.   
They turned to the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson had one arm slung through Malfoy's, helping him to his seat, though he was shrugging at her periodically as though trying to brush her off. Despite his being hurt, he wasn't making a big deal about it, like her normally did. Crabbe and Goyle greeted him enthusiastically, making room for him on the benches. Pansy sat down beside him, one hand on his shoulder, reaching for a biscuit and trying to feed it to him.   
"I'm going to study in the library," Ginny cried suddenly, standing up, a half-eaten piece of toast still in her hand. Her voice was high and strangled. "I missed a bit, yesterday and all." She dashed from the room, half her books gathered in her hand, the others bouncing about her half-open satchel.   
"'S wong wiff 'er?" Ron asked, shoving another biscuit in his mouth.   
"I don't know," Hermione replied with a frown, watching as Ginny disappeared through the main doors. "She's so quiet."   
"Wouldn't you be, if you were stuck with Malfoy for almost two days?" Harry said, lowering his voice and glancing at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was staring in the direction of the doors, a strange, almost sorrowful expression on his face.   
_That's odd…_   
"So…did you send off an owl to Fred and George…or Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked.   
Harry nodded. "Ron sent off Pig to Fred and George…and I sent Hedwig to tell the Professor. Come to think on it, he probably should have sent an acknowledgment by now."   
Hermione glanced at the ceiling again, which hadn't yet seen a single owl. "This really _is_ odd. Perhaps we should say something to Professor McGonagall about it. Luna might actually have been right on, this time…"   
"I'm sure they know, Hermione. They'll find out the cause, and fix it."   
"Besides," Ron said, swallowing the last bit of his porridge. "It'll save us one day of being subjected to another of Neville's Grandmother's Howlers."   
"Yeah," Neville laughed shakily. "Especially after she finds out how I did on my last Care of Magical Creatures exam."   
On the other side of the hall, the Slytherins began to gather their things; Pansy leaned over to help Malfoy with his books, but he pushed her hands aside and shoveled them into his satchel. He breezed out of the Great Hall before any of the rest of them could pack up theirs.   
"Come on," said Harry, watching Malfoy as he walked swiftly through the doors. "Potions."   
Ron rolled his eyes, reached for another biscuit, and followed the rest of the group into the bustling halls.   
  
  
  
  
Potions was miserable, as usual, but not so much as it used to be, considering they had all been qualified to take it.   
Harry's potions never turned out as well as Hermione's, but he felt a little more confident, having gotten into Advanced Potions in the first place. This time, his Complex Sleeping Draught had looked nearly as smooth as hers, and had only bubbled a little when the final tests were was completed.   
Surprisingly, it was Malfoy who'd taken a wrong step; his Draught exploded halfway through the final burn, showering the Slytherin side of the room with a green tinted ooze that caused half of them to drop to the floor in a dead faint. It took three different vials of Awakening Serum for Professor Snape to get them conscious, and another two of Strengthening Potion to allow them to make it to the Hospital Wing.   
"Class dismissed," Snape snapped, as he helped Pansy Parkinson wobble to her feet. "But do not presume this little fiasco lessens the amount of analysis I want spent on all forms of Sleeping Drafts. I expect essays handed in by the beginning of next class—_with_ working examples."   
"Thank goodness we only have Potions twice a week!" Ron snarled, scrubbing the bottom of his cauldron, where his potion, a ghastly yellow, had adhered to the bottom. "Why I decided Advanced Potions would be worth it I'll never know."   
"At least it wasn't us, this time," said Hermione, carefully scooping her perfect potion into little glass vials. "Who would have thought Malfoy, of all people, would end up having class cancelled early?"   
"Odd indeed," returned Harry, who was watching as Malfoy scrubbed the areas around his work table. He'd been lucky enough to avoid his own potion, but looked as though he didn't care he completely humiliated himself in front of the entire class. He hadn't even glanced their way.   
Hermione must have noticed Harry's expression, because a few moments later, when Ron had moved to the stone basins at the other end of the room, she leaned in, nodded towards Malfoy, and whispered, "Ginny."   
Harry nodded. Malfoy's behavior had to have something to do with Ginny, though he couldn't be sure what. Ginny'd been acting strangely, too. Hermione had been right in suspecting _something_ had happened between them. No need to alarm Ron, however. He'd had enough to worry him in the past few days.   
"Let's go," Ron said, returning to them. "I've had enough of the bad smell in here to last me for days."   
"Wait, the ingredients," said Hermione.   
"I'll take care of them," Harry replied. "You go on to the Common Room."   
Hermione nodded, glancing sideways at Ron, who was staring at Malfoy with narrowed eyes. "Right, then. We'll see you up there, Harry. Ron?"   
He didn't reply, just continued to watch Malfoy, who was on his knees, scrubbing the floor. Hermione put two hands on his shoulders and shoved him out of the room.   
Harry gathered the ingredients onto his tray; he returned from the Ingredients storeroom a few moments later, collected his books, and headed for the door.   
"Potter."   
Harry turned; Malfoy had finished and was wiping his hands, staring at him hatefully.   
Harry sighed. "Whatever threat it is this time, Malfoy, I don't have time today. Catch me next Tuesday."   
"If you would shut that fat mouth for a moment, and listen, you _might_ be interested in what I have to say."   
"_Nothing_ you have to say would interest me."   
"Not even if it would save Granger's life? And everyone else's?"   
Harry paused. "What do you mean?"   
"There's being an attack planned."   
"W-what? When?"   
"Do you have eyes, Potter? Or are those glasses just for show? Didn't you see that there were no owls this morning? When do you think?"   
"You mean…that was _planned? _" Harry said in shock. "The repelling spells really have been reversed?"   
"And the Floo, and the field of apparation…it's all been changed. No wizards will be able to come within 50 miles of this place by this evening."   
"Tonight?"   
Malfoy sneered at him. "Yes, _tonight_. The attack will occur this evening after sunset. Go and warn that fool Dumbledore and his little "Order". The only working Floo will be in the Slytherin Common Room if he wants to get anyone out."   
"Wait a moment," Harry said, moving a step towards him. "Who's attacking? Voldemort? The Death Eaters? And with what?"   
"What does it matter? You know about it, now go and tattle to your Headmaster and let him deal with it."   
"It matters," Harry returned harshly. "It matters because we might have to help him. There are over a thousands students at this school."   
"Of course. Hero-happy Potter and his little band of DA. Going to save the world, again? Not this time. You had best leave, because even your skills won't be strong enough to match _this_ army."   
Harry straightened, a chill running down his spine. It was something about the way Malfoy had spoken that clued him, beyond a shadow of a doubt, into what was coming. "Its not the Death Eaters. It's the Dementors."   
"Probably. And maybe some Living Shrouds. Things you would have no _chance_ facing."   
Harry narrowed his eyes, but smiled darkly. "You might be surprised, Malfoy. Facing Lord Voldemort a few times changes your perspective on a lot of things. If they want me, they're going to have to fight for it."   
"You idiot," Malfoy spat, tossing his rag into his cauldron. "This has nothing to _do_ with the Dark Lord. At least not directly. They're not coming after you, you egoistic half-blood scarhead! They're coming to destroy _Hogwarts!" _   
"Hogwarts?" Harry repeated, confused. "Why?"   
"Because…because she's crazy, that's why. Bellatrix Lestrange doesn't care about who lives or dies, so long as you, Dumbledore and the school is completely and utterly annihilated."   
"_HER? _" Harry cried, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "_She's_ the one planning this! Your _AUNT_!"   
He bolted for Malfoy, who whipped out his wand, pointing it straight at Harry's face. "I've had enough battering at the hands of you and your friends in the last two days. Go on and tempt me, Potter. The Cruciatus curse I used on that manticore turned out to be quite effective, and I'd love to test it again."   
Harry skidded to a stop, his eyes fixed on Malfoy. "Bellatrix is going to attack Hogwarts…on Voldemort's orders?"   
Malfoy shrugged, his wand not moving. "It wasn't clear. I only overheard a little of the conversation between her and my mother. It sounded as though she was, but my 'aunt' tends to be a bit overzealous at times," he smiled cruelly, "as you are well aware."   
Harry clenched his teeth, tears of anger blurring his vision. "And what are you planning, Malfoy? Why are you telling me this? Working with her, perhaps, to set up the Gryffindors in the Slytherin Common Room, where it'll be easiest to destroy them?"   
The grin washed from Malfoy's face, and, to Harry's surprise, he lowered his wand. "Of course not. If I'd wanted the Gryffindors to die, I wouldn't have said _anything_, you prat."   
"Then why…why are you telling me this, _Malfoy_? Are you getting a thrill, watching us run about while you'll be safe and tucked away at home?"   
"I get no thrill from the idea of destroying Hogwarts. Whatever—or whoever—Dumbledore might let into the school, it is still _my_ school. Not even the Slytherins know—yet. You're the first I've told." Malfoy lowered his eyes for a moment and his entire body seemed to lose its strength. "And I'm not going to run, for the same reason I've _told_ you first. I have to make sure that Ginny Weasley is safe. I owe her that much."   
Harry's books, parchment and vials of potion tumbled from his hand, shattering on the floor. He opened and shut his mouth a few times, but no words came out.   
Malfoy's pursed his lips, his face going red. "What? She saved me, now I'm returning the favor. There's nothing more to it than that."   
"Except that…you're saving the rest of us in the process," Harry said quietly. "You actually care enough about Ginny to protect the rest of us—Hermione and everyone else you despise?"   
"Of _course_ not," Malfoy asserted, turning away from him to gather his own books. His face was as red as Ron's had been the night before. "I care nothing for Ginny. But I owe her a wizard's debt. And that must be repaid, no matter to whom it is due. Or who her friends might be."   
Harry studied him careful. Beneath the cool demeanor, which bore the same self-assured attitude it always did, there was a hint of something. A doubt, an uncertainty…   
A fear…   
Hermione's voice echoed in his head. "_He's…different, somehow…"_ Malfoy turned, and Harry bent down to gather his books, his mind racing. Ginny had done something to Malfoy—he couldn't be absolutely certain, but Malfoy had changed. When he rose, Malfoy was walking past him, to the door.   
"I'll tell Ginny it was you that warned us," he called to the Slytherin's retreating form, "and I'm sure she'll acknowledge it as a debt repaid. But if there is more to this than you're letting on, Malfoy, I want you to understand something."   
Malfoy paused in the doorway.   
"If this school has to be defended tonight, I guarantee you that we _will_ be the ones defending it. Not because we all want to be heroes, but because it's our school, and it, and especially its students, are worth saving. And no matter what Ron, I, or anyone else says or does, even if we were to run away and leave the school behind, Ginny _won't_. She's the kind of person who will be right there, wand ready, facing the Dementors, the Living Shrouds—facing Bellatrix. She _will_ fight for the school…and for the students. She'll _die_ for them. If you feared for her, you've not ensured her protection. You've placed her in greater danger."   
He pushed roughly past him, heading down the hall, to Dumbledore's office. Malfoy remained by the doorway, satchel drooping by his side.   
  
  
  
***Even if this is a D/G fic, I just luv Harry and want to squish him! Isn't he so right! WOOHOOO! This chapter took SOOO long to write! All this filler stuff, and making sure the repercussions of their adventures together resonated with both Ginny and Draco—but also making sure that they realize they are different people once they return to Hogwarts. But now…the battle for Hogwarts is about to begin!!! Didja like my bombshell? Evil Bellatrix! Expect more of her, more darkness, worry…danger and…mortal peril!   
  
And for those of you to whom I told a bit of a fib…*hee, hee, SWEATDROP*…In the Shadows will NO LONGER BE JUST SIX CHAPTERS! There is no way I can fit what I want to fit in six tellings. So, in keeping along the lines of HP, I'm extending it to seven. WOOHOO! More story, more cliffhangers!   
  
Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I SO much appreciate it. Please, keep them coming! ;)*** 


	5. The Battle Begins

In the Shadows: A Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts)   
  
**Chapter V: The Battle Begins**   
  
"This is an extremely serious allegation, Harry. Is Mister Malfoy certain that his sources are correct?" asked Professor Dumbledore. His office still held the same unique, quirky gadgets, but there were a few missing here and there—a result of Harry's temper last year. He still felt a little justified, at finally getting Dumbledore to explain everything, but a great deal more guilty than anything else. On his perch near Dumbledore's desk, Fawkes was watching Harry with interest.   
Harry nodded. "I think he was sincere, Professor. And the owls seem to confirm his suspicions. But has nothing been noticed at the Ministry? A great army of Dementors would most certainly be noticed, wouldn't they?"   
"It would seem so. But the Death Eaters have a strange way of managing to surprise the Ministry—and others, including the Order of the Phoenix."   
"Then…how will we know for certain? What should we do?"   
"For now, I will have all classes cancelled until the end of the day, and someone outside of the school can confirm it."   
"And if you're unable to reach someone outside the school?"   
Dumbledore gazed at him over the rim of his glasses, looking grave. "Then I believe that shall be enough confirmation. Tell the Prefects in your House to gather the First and Second years—they'll be placed in the Great Hall for the time being, and at noon, when the Floo in Slytherin is supposed to be opened, we'll take them down to the dungeons. I'll have the other Heads of House tell their students the same. We'll take no chances, especially if this plan has been formulated by Bellatrix Lestrange."   
Harry nodded, and rose, gathering his things. He paused at the door. "Sir…why would Voldemort want to destroy the school? What motivation could he have?"   
The Headmaster heaved a sigh. "None, Harry. None. Voldemort's ancestor was Salazar Slytherin—he would have neither desire nor reason to attack the school directly. And as you and I both know, he prefers not to sully his own hands with open warfare. Either this is an intricate plot to find a way to get to you—and perhaps myself—or this has nothing to do with Voldemort at all."   
Harry's eyes widened. "Then…this might be just Bellatrix…on her own?"   
"Yes. And if that is the case, then things may be much more serious than we originally feared."   
"More serious than Voldemort?"   
Dumbledore nodded. "Voldemort has a reason to see you alive—so that he can kill you. Bellatrix Lestrange has no such motivations."   
  
Ginny gazed out the windows of Gryffindor Tower, watching as Hagrid and Professor McGonagall hurried down the winding slope towards the lake. Something strange was going on. All students had been called to their dormitories, and told to wait there until they were informed by prefects, Head students or Head of House as to what was going on.   
And now, their own Head of House was making her way to the lake…   
Everyone turned as the portrait hole swung open, and Harry walked into the room.   
"Harry," asked Hermione, jumping up from her chair. "What's wrong? Where have you been?"   
Ron stood up beside her. "What happened?"   
"Ron, Hermione…Ginny…" he motioned for them to join him.   
They made their way over to a nook in the corner, the other Gryffindors watching them suspiciously. Harry leaned in, his voice low.   
"I've just been with Professor Dumbledore. There's a possibility the school…the school might be attacked."   
"WHAT?" cried Ron, startling the crowd.   
"Quiet!" Harry hissed. "We don't know for certain…but Dumbledore wants to go ahead and start taking precautions."   
"The owls…" Hermione murmured. "The repelling spells."   
"You mean Loony Lovegood was right?"   
"Possibly. According to Malfoy, the Floo network and the field of apparation have also been altered."   
"_Malfoy? _" Ginny cried.   
"Field of Apparition—what's that?" asked Ron.   
"It's the distance outside of Hogwarts to which a wizard can apparate. Like a protection…no wizard can apparate within a certain number of miles of the Hogwarts gate," explained Hermione. "But…how?"   
"Malfoy?" Ginny asked again.   
Harry nodded at her. "Malfoy was the one who told me…and told me to tell Dumbledore. According to him, this has been set up by…"   
"Voldemort?" said Hermione.   
Ron jumped. "Do you always have to say that name?"   
Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Harry interrupted her. "It would seem so, but Malfoy seemed to think it was his aunt who was behind all of it—Bellatrix Lestrange." His last few words came out somewhat garbled, and he realized he was wringing his robes rather violently.   
Ginny collapsed into a nearby armchair. "Bellatrix…"   
"You don't seemed surprised," said Ron suspiciously.   
"But…what are we going to do if the rumour is true?" asked Hermione, ignoring him. "If no wizards can get here…and they don't suspect anything's amiss..."   
"If they can't get in contact with their children, I'm certain they'll suspect something's up. Think about it…if Hedwig, Pig…they can't get through, they'll return to where they came from. Professor Lupin, Fred and George…they'd all know something was wrong."   
"If she hasn't done something to the owls themselves," Ron whispered, looking grave.   
Harry felt a flutter of panic at the thought of Hedwig, subject to the mercy of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Come on. We have to let the Gryffindors know, and get the First Years down to the Great Hall. Malfoy said the Slytherin Floo would be open starting at noon, to allow the Slytherins time to leave. Dumbledore says we can use that one for the younger students."   
They nodded, looking slightly panicked, but turned to leave, all except Ginny, who remained in the armchair. Harry bent down to her. "Ginny…"   
"He should have said something sooner…he's known about this since yesterday, I know he has. Well, at least we know what he meant now…'its on your head…'"   
"Ginny, its amazing he said anything _at all_. He told _me_, of anybody. Not Snape, not Dumbledore, not the other Slytherins…_me_. And he told me for your sake, at least, so he says."   
"My sake?" she looked up to him. "He actually said that?"   
Harry nodded.   
"And…you don't think this is some kind of trap?"   
He paused for a moment, remembering Malfoy's somewhat lost expression. "No, Ginny. I think this is sincere. A verifiable 'wizard's debt.'"   
Ginny's eyes widened. "Wizard's debt?"   
He shrugged, but grinned at her. "That's what he told me."   
"And you think he's being truthful?"   
"I don't think much of Draco Malfoy, Ginny. But this time…" he shook his head. "This time even _I_ believed him. And that should say something for him, however little it might be."   
She smiled slightly, then frowned. "Still…he should have said something."   
"Yeah, he probably should have." But he offered no other comments, or, more importantly, criticisms.   
She looked a little more certain, and after a moment, rose. "I'll go and help the other prefects then."   
Hermione was gathering the First and Second Years around her, most of whom wore looks of uncertainty and panic on their faces. The remainder of the Gryffindor students were watching Harry with trepidation.   
"So then…if the only the First and Second Years are going to go, what's our lot?" asked Lavender Brown.   
"Isn't it obvious? We're going to fight," replied Seamus Finnegan, pulling out his wand. "When do we go to battle?"   
"_Battle_?" said Hermione, shaking her head. "We're going to do as Professor Dumbledore instructs, and stay _here_."   
"But the Professors…"   
"We will wait and see what the Professor _have to say_," said Hermione forcefully. "But no talk of 'battles' or anything else until we know for certain." She nodded to a few of the Third years, who were watching the exchange with wide eyes.   
Seamus lowered his wand, looking slightly disappointed. "Right, then."   
She gathered the first group of students, leading them out through the portrait hole. Ginny gathered a second group, and Ron a third. Harry watched them leave, his mind a whirl of thoughts. If they had to fight…could they?   
A few of the upperclassman were sitting down at the tables, looking utterly bewildered and extremely frightened. Some of them had been in the training sessions for Dumbledore's Army last year. Most had mastered the Patronus spell. But working with Boggarts, under the watchful eye of Hogwarts students, was nothing compared to facing a _real_ Dementor. Much less an army of them.   
He could only hope Dumbledore would be able to find a way to stop this.   
  
Draco leaned up against the stone wall of the Slytherin Common Room, watching the rest of the gathered Slytherins impatiently. Snape had called the meeting right after classes had been let out; he knew exactly why, but was still wondering what the course of action would be.   
At least Potter hadn't wasted any time.   
Professor Snape breezed into the common room, his usual black robes looking slightly unkempt. "Professor Dumbledore has informed the teachers that there is a distinct possibility Hogwarts shall be attacked tonight."   
The entire common room gasped, then burst into a collection of whispers. Professor Snape waited patiently for a moment. "Gather yourselves, please. The Headmaster has instructed that all First and Second Years are to follow their prefects to the Great Hall; the rest of you will remain here and wait for further instruction."   
"But what is it, Professor Snape?" asked Avery. "What is the attack going to be?"   
"Again, we're uncertain, Mr. Avery, but according to the Headmaster's sources, it appears to be Dementors."   
"_Dementors_!"   
"But…why would they attack us? They'd have no cause, especially not Slytherin."   
"I bet it's Potter," sneered Zack Tolbert.   
"Right. Well, we should just chuck him out in front of the gates—he and his little friends. Then we wouldn't have to worry about anything."   
"Before you entertain ideas of human sacrifice," growled the Potions Master, crossing his arms, "I would remind you that Dementors neither know nor care of the distinction between pure-blood and mixed-blood. And they have no clue as to the importance of Harry Potter—who, I've been informed, is _not_ the cause of this particular attack, at least not directly—and as such, they won't be searching for him. That being said, the army that has been amassed won't know the distinction between anyone here. All they know is that life means souls, whether they be Slytherin, Gryffindor, or any other House.   
"Further, the attack is an attack on this _school_. From what precautions have been set up by the person behind this plan, it appears that _no_ part of the school will be safe—except for _here_." He motioned to the Slytherin's great fireplace.   
"Here? Slytherin House? Then it's an attack by the Dark Lord, then," said Pansy, before clapping a hand over her mouth.   
Snape's eyes narrowed. No Slytherin had ever dared mention the Dark Lord in Snape's presence, although it was generally assumed that he, like many of their parents, bore the Dark Mark. Lucius Malfoy had once said it did no one any good for Death Eaters outside their respective meeting circles to acknowledge one another; wizarding pride, and a greater risk of getting caught, were two reasons all who followed the Dark Lord remained anonymous. Further, in a place like Hogwarts, there was no telling who might be listening. Not with Dumbledore and his army of House Elves around. And Draco had just learnt of what House Elves were _really_ capable.   
"You _will not_ mention that name here. _EVER_," spat the Professor, and Pansy nodded meekly, sinking into her chair. Most of the other Slytherins watched the floor, unable to look at him. "There is no reason to assume Lord Voldemort is behind this, although the Headmaster will treat it with the same degree of urgency as if it had been. The Slytherin common room, for some unknown reason, bears a working Floo; because of that, all First and Second years from every House will be using it this afternoon, starting at noon, until everyone is safely away."   
This started another round of exclamations.   
"WHAT?"   
"But…Professor! All of the Houses will know Slytherin's location!"   
"We can't let them in here!"   
"Would you prefer them all die, then, and have that be on your heads?" Snape questioned.   
Again, the Slytherins grew quiet.   
"I expect there shall be no difficulty, then, for _any_ of the other Houses. The first round of students will be the Slytherin First and Second years; for now, they need to make their way to the Great Hall, but someone will come to escort you back before noontime. The rest of you, take this opportunity to brush up on your Defenses skills, as there is a slight possibility you might be needing them later." He whirled around, towards the entrance.   
"And don't view this as some sort of prank. I expect each and every one of you to see this as a most serious threat. And to be prepared for it."   
The wall slid shut. Pansy and some of the other House Prefects began to gather a few of the First and Second years together, but Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott marched over to where Malfoy stood in the shadows.   
"You knew about this, didn't you, _Draco? _" Milly spat. "It was you who told Dumbledore."   
"No, it wasn't," replied Draco truthfully. "But yes, I did know about this." He moved from the wall, trying to push through them. Pansy was watching him, betrayal etched on her face.   
"Then why didn't you say something last night?" asked Teddy. "We might have…"   
"Might have what? Tried to get away?"   
"No…we might have tried to find a way to help them."   
Draco spun around, grabbing Nott by his robes and thrusting him up against the wall. "Did you not hear what Snape said, you fool? This _isn't_ the Dark Lord. This is an army of Dementors. This has nothing to do with the Death Eaters."   
"How do you know?"   
"Because I was there. I overheard my aunt telling my mother _exactly_ what she was planning."   
"Your aunt?" asked Milly. "Then, its Bella who's planning this?"   
"Yes, its Bella who's planning this. Apparently, without regard for any of the other Death Eaters. If it hadn't been for my mother, _none_ of us would have known that this was coming, and none of us was going to have a way out.. She was going to attack without regard for any of your parents. She would have let you _die_."   
"But…she wouldn't do that. The Dark Lord…she wouldn't do that," sniffed a Second year. "She can't."   
"She can…and she is. Now go on and do what Professor Snape and Dumbledore command." He released Teddy. "This is for our safety as well as that of the other students."   
He marched to the head of a line of First Years. "Come on, then."   
  
Ginny ushered the last few First Years into the Great Hall. As she'd seen happen countless times before, the Hall was empty of the long tables that usually occupied it, and was instead a completely open room, with only chairs to accommodate the groups of First and Second years entering it. The Gryffindors retreated to the a sunny portion of the room, gathering together and talking amongst themselves quietly.   
"Go on. Professor Snape should be in here shortly."   
Ginny turned; Draco had paused by the doors to allow his students to move past him, headed for the furthest corner in the Great Hall, near the doorway the Professors often used. When the last one had entered, he crossed the doorways, moving towards her.   
She turned around and headed back towards the main staircases. _He's the last person I need to see…_   
"Wait a minute," he called after her, dodging around a pack of Ravenclaw First years who had just arrived.   
She whirled around, her hair flying out around her, facing him but not stopping. "You knew. You knew about this the _whole_ time. That's why you wanted me to go home to the Burrow."   
A few more lines of younger students were making their way to the doors, including another line of Slytherins, led by a Seventh Year Prefect who was watching them with interest.   
Draco caught up to her, grabbed her arm, and hustled her around the corner. "I knew, but forgive me for not thinking of it at the time, as my immediate concern was getting you out of my house and away from my _aunt_!"   
"We were safe in that part of the house! You could have told me then…or after the Slytherin common room…"   
"I tried, remember! If it hadn't been for that half-wit of a brother of yours…"   
"My brother is not a half-wit!" she cried, yanking her arm out of his grasp. "And at least he would have been honest from the start! You had to wait until what…_this morning_ before you told someone about this? Why couldn't you have done it last night? Or…when you were in the hospital wing? Snape…Dumbledore…_somebody! _"   
She lowered her head. "But you didn't. You waited until we were all in greater danger."   
"I didn't wait, not exactly," he retorted. "I tried to tell you then—in the Hospital Wing—but you wouldn't listen. You kept going on about Muggle-borns and pure-bloods and asking questions I never should have answered. And even then I wasn't sure about it…not until my Mother sent an owl letting me know it was real."   
"And then?"   
"I told Potter about it first thing."   
"You should have gone to Snape the moment you found out it was true, if not before. Last night, we could still get into Hogwarts! Which means others could have gotten out again. But something…that blasted pride of yours—or your hatred towards those muggles you find so loathsome—stopped you from making the right decision."   
"I didn't wait because of that! I don't want the school destroyed either!" he cried.   
"Then why?"   
Draco stared for a moment.   
Ginny shook her head. "'Its on your head.' You were sentencing me to death, Draco. And you didn't even care."   
"I was angry. I didn't mean it. And you were the reason I told Potter in the first place!"   
She continued on, ignoring him. "And after everything I told you last night. I should have listened to you then. You know, you were right. People really can't change. Not even the little that might matter." She moved away from him.   
"That's not true. You were…" he reached for her retreating hand…and paused, eyes widening. "What's this?"   
He flipped her hand over. On the palm, the snake that had been cut into it was still there, less prominent, and smooth, as though it had been healed over, but still present.   
"N-nothing!" she said, trying to pull her hand out of his grasp.   
"Why did you do this? Why didn't you follow Madam Pomfrey's instructions? She told you to leave those bandages on all _night_!"   
"I—I forgot!" she said, her voice strangled and high-pitched. "They must have slipped off while I was sleeping."   
"Ginny…"   
"It doesn't matter anyway!" she cried, yanking her hand from his grasp. "It means nothing now."   
"Nothing?"   
"_Nothing_. The boy who gave me this…who I got this for…he was an _illusion_, remember?" she spat. "He doesn't exist. He's back where he belongs." She tapped the small silver badge, which was clipped once more to his robes. "_Exactly_ where he belongs."   
His eyes moved from the silver pin on his robes, to the one on hers. "You're probably right."   
Her face twisted. "I don't ever want to see you again, Draco Malfoy. And thanks to you," she added, "I probably won't." She turned and headed back towards the Great Hall, leaving him alone and astounded in the middle of the corridor.   
  
Harry waited patiently in the Gryffindor Common Room, watching the wind blow across the lake through one of the windows. The grounds were so peaceful, and quiet, it seemed impossible to think that something as dangerous as Dementors might be attacking it tonight.   
Hermione was in a corner, attempting to teach the Patronus spell to the few Gryffindors who hadn't been members of the DA in either year it had been around, or who were having difficulty mastering the spell. Ron was pacing back and forth, twirling his wand through his fingers, and mouthing something that looked suspiciously like "think happy thoughts."   
The portrait hole swung open, and Ginny entered, looking a bit shaken and very red.   
Ron stopped his pacing and came over to her. "You're late. Is everything all right?"   
"The First and Second Years are tucked away in the Hall," she said briskly, marching over to one of the desks and pulling out a bandage. "Hermione, do you still have some of that essence of murtlap you used on Harry last year?"   
Hermione looked up from her little group, only a few of whom had successfully managed a puff of silver in the past half-hour. "Yes, it's upstairs in the dormitory cabinet."   
Ginny trotted off to the girls staircase, sending Ron back to his pacing. When she returned, she had her left palm wrapped in a bandage.   
"Are you feeling alright, Ginny?" Harry asked, moving towards her.   
"Perfectly fine," she returned, taking a seat in one of the armchairs, where she picked up a book and proceeded to read it upside down.   
The portrait hole swung open.   
The Gryffindors turned as Professor McGonagall made her way into the room. Her hat, which she normally wore at all times, was in her hands, bent completely out of shape.   
"The Headmaster has just informed us that it appears the attack will take place. There has been no contact with anyone outside the school, and every attempt we have made has been blocked by Hogwarts' own defensive spells. No owls, no Floo, and no ability to apparate. There is no word on whether anyone outside the school is aware of what is going on, other than, perhaps, someone at the Ministry…but there is no one we can spare to find out."   
"What about Hogsmeade?" questioned Hermione. "Why don't we try and send someone down there?"   
"Hagrid and I journeyed to Hogsmeade early this morning. All of the owl posts have been cut off, and the wizards down there have no ability to apparate at all. And it appears that a repelling curse has been placed upon the borders to the town, because anyone who tries to leave it falls into a deep slumber that would take a very strong revival potion to break. We suspect that the same thing would happen to any professor who tries to go within a few miles of the gates of Hogwarts."   
"So, we're trapped?" said Ron.   
Professor McGonagall didn't answer.   
"What about the House Elves?" Harry asked. Dobby didn't use the same kinds of magic that wizards did. "Can't they get through?"   
"We've asked them, but it seems their powers, as well as those of the centaurs, the ghosts, and even the paintings, have been stifled somehow. They don't have the ability to apparate outside of the school. We've sent a few of them outside the castle, to try and make it out on foot, but they are so little thought of it's a wonder that anyone would believe them, if they do reach help in time."   
"So, now what do we do?" asked Ginny.   
"We will do as we planned," said the Professor, looking pale. "We shall send the First and Second Years through the Slytherin Floo first, then begin on the Third years and going on, until the Seventh years are out. The professors, meanwhile, will take up defenses around the castle and try and hold them off long enough to allow the students to escape."   
"Just you…by yourselves?" asked Hermione, her eyes wide.   
"Some of the wizards of Hogsmeade have agreed to come up to the castle to help…but yes, Miss Granger, it appears we have no other choice."   
"We can help," said Harry. A few of the other Gryffindors stood up behind him, nodding.   
"_No_, Potter. We're not putting any of the students in unnecessary danger. All we can hope is that the Floo works fast enough to get you all out before nightfall."   
"But Professor…"   
"I don't want to hear another word about anything even remotely close to 'helping,' Miss Granger. You'll be headed to a safe place long before the Dementors come anywhere near Hogwarts."   
"But…"   
"IS THAT CLEAR, MISTER WEASLEY?"   
"Yes, Professor."   
  
At exactly noon, Professor Snape marched in the first line of First Years, a group of Slytherin girls, all of whom looked excited and nervous about the upcoming trip.   
Draco had resumed his position in the shadows along the wall, leaning back against the tapestries. Ginny's words still ran through his mind.   
_I don't ever want to see you again…_   
He shook his head. He would never be rid of that girl's voice, now.   
Not as if he wanted to be.   
He heaved a frustrated sigh, and tried to push Ginny and his own traitorous thoughts out of his mind. Professor Snape led the girls to the fireplace, which was now lined with dozens of buckets of Floo powder. According to his Mother, the Floo should be open now, and the Slytherin fireplace was large enough to provide traveling space for up to three of the younger students, and two of the older. Hopefully, there would be enough Floo powder to last through all of the groups, although he and a few others had volunteered to go and fetch some from their houses if needed.   
The Potions Master pointed at the first girl, a scrawny, trembling little thing with two rather unkempt brown braids. She leapt as he motioned to the fireplace, and scrambled through the iron grating into the massive hearth.   
The Professor stared at her in frustration. "Would you like to collect some Floo powder, Miss Davenport?"   
She squeaked something that sounded like an affirmation, then grabbed a handful and threw it over herself.   
"Whitehall Way!"   
The powder shimmered to the ground, dusting the little girl in green, glittering residue. She stared at the Potions Master with frightened eyes, as though she'd been the one to make the error. The rest of the Slytherins turned to the Professor, looking worried.   
Professor Snape ordered her out of the fire, then turned to Draco, who lifted himself up and strode over the mantle.   
"Its supposed to be open," he said, handing Professor Snape the note his mother had sent him the evening before. "At noon."   
The Professor studied the note with some interest, then turned to Draco, an eyebrow raised beneath his folds of dark hair. "Try to go home. To the Manor."   
Draco immediately strode into the fire, seizing a handful of Floo powder from one of the buckets. "Malfoy Manor."   
He dropped the powder into the grating, where it wafted slowly down, not a spark of green flame lighting beneath it. He shook his head at the Professor, completely astounded.   
"I don't know what…"   
"I believe I do." He leaned in so only Draco could hear. "Your aunt has interfered with your mother's plans."   
Draco's eyes widened. "But…she can't…my mother…"   
"You aunt will do whatever she can to ensure the events tonight shall not be interrupted. Even if it means defying your mother, and _others_…" his tone sharpened at the last word, "Once they find out, it will be to late for them to stop it. Or stop her."   
"So, what do we do now?" interrupted Blaise Zabini.   
Professor Snape looked slightly annoyed. "All the Prefects will gather their First and Second Years back to the dormitories. It will be easier for the Heads of Houses to update you this way. I'm going to speak to the Headmaster about the Floo…we'll see if we cannot get this sorted out somehow."   
Draco watched as he swooped out of the Slytherin entrance, then turned, to where the other students were eyeing him, some of them rather darkly. As though he had betrayed them.   
"What the carp, Draco?" asked Joya Mannan, a Slytherin seventh year. "I thought the Slytherins were supposed to be protected."   
"They were," he replied. "It appears that someone has changed the plans."   
"Why would she do that?" asked Goyle. "Why would a Death Eater risk the lives of those who would follow in her footsteps?"   
"Well, this particular Death Eater doesn't tend to look at things sensibly, does she?"   
Avery's eyes lit up. "Our parents will massacre her."   
"Do you think she cares?" Draco said angrily, spinning on them. "All Bellatrix Lestrange cares about is making sure Potter and Dumbledore are _dead_, and making sure Hogwarts is destroyed. So what possible motivation would she have to make sure all the rest of us survive?"   
The entire common room had gone silent, the First and Second Years trembling, the rest staring at him with a mixture of incredulity and horror.   
"So…the Dark Lord…_really doesn't know_?" asked Nott.   
"Why would he?" sighed Draco wearily. "Attacking Hogwarts is the last thing he would consider doing, if everything Potter claims is true. He's been very careful about avoiding Dumbledore, and getting others to do his work for him. Like your dad. And mine."   
Nott lowered his head.   
"Attacking Hogwarts _would_ be a foolhardy move on his part," said Millicent, looking more frightened than Draco had ever seen her. "So, then…what now? Even if we had some way of letting him or the other Death Eaters know, its not like they can stop her. No one can stop her."   
"We can stop her," said Jonah Santiago, another Seventh Year.   
"What?"   
"We can stop her. Most of the Sixth and Seventh Years can do a Patronus spell, and even a few of the Fifth Years. And many others learned those countercurses at home. We could help the teachers."   
Blaise started to laugh. "Us? Helping _Dumbledore_? Have you gone completely mad?"   
"Why not?" said Jonah defensively. "If we don't, we could all die. Do you think your parents—or rather, the Death Eaters—would be upset if we tried to save our own lives rather than die for Bellatrix?"   
"What do you mean, _our_ parents?" snarled Millicent. "You're in Slytherin too."   
"Not all of us are in Slytherin because our parents are Death Eaters. Mine are pure-bloods, but that's all. I was jut better suited for Slytherin than anywhere else."   
"Even so," said Blaise, staring at Jonah uncertainly, "there absolutely no way that I, or any other _respectable_ Slytherin, would lend Dumbledore, or Potter, a hand in this."   
"But…"   
"She's right," said Draco. "Dumbledore has never asked our help, and I personally don't want to assist that goody-goody Potter or his friends."   
"But what about Professor Snape? He'll be out there, fighting, just like the rest of them. And he told us to be prepared."   
"He wanted us to be prepared in case the Dementors get past them," Draco replied. "If the others students want to kill themselves, they can. The rest of us will stay in here, defend our common room if need be, and wait until its over."   
_I should have listened to what you said. People really can't change…_   
"That's more like our Malfoy," said Millicent with a grin. "We were getting worried there for a little while."   
He returned her smile, twirling his wand between his fingertips. All the while Ginny's disappointed, tear-streaked face raced through his mind.   
  
Professor McGonagall returned to Gryffindor a few hours later, pallid, with trembling lips.   
"The Floo in Slytherin House is not working. The Headmaster has asked that all students return to their dormitories."   
"_What? _" cried Harry, Ron and Hermione.   
"But…Malfoy told me…"   
"The fault is not Mister Malfoy's, if that is what you're wondering, Potter. It appears that there was a mix up of which not even he was aware."   
"So then," said Ron hoarsely, "there's the chance we're all…"   
"You are to remain in Gryffindor until the Professors come for you," said McGonagall swiftly, drowning him out. "Which is likely to be sometime after the battle has ceased. You are to remain here—_and do not leave the tower_—is that understood?"   
"But Professor…"   
"THERE IS TO BE A CHARM PLACED ON THESE ROOMS FOR YOUR OWN PROTECTION, MISTER POTTER, AND I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR YOU ARGUING WITH ME RIGHT NOW IS THAT CLEAR?"   
Harry backed away slightly. "Of course, not, Professor. I was just wondering if it might not be safer to take the other students to a more well protected portion of the castle."   
"There are no places safer in Hogwarts than the dormitories. They have concealment charms on them already, to prevent intrusions by other students, and the charms we're looking to do should cloak them almost completely."   
"But it won't conceal the students inside," said Hermione meekly, staring at McGonagall in trepidation. "The Dementors will still be able to sense the souls."   
"This is the best protection we can provide, Miss Granger. There is nothing else…"   
"What about the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked.   
The Professor turned to him. "What did you say, Mister Potter?"   
"You could use the Chamber of Secrets. It wasn't damaged during the battle with the Basilisk. And since the "monster" has been gone for a couple of years…"   
McGonagall pursed her lips. "Dumbledore has address the Chamber of Secrets issue, as well as the Third Floor corridor and the Room of Requirement. And concluded that none of them were as safe as the dormitories. Therefore…you will all wait here until I return…and DO NOT LEAVE FOR ANYTHING, IS THAT CLEAR?!"   
"Yes, Professor," they echoed.   
She turned, exiting through the portrait hole.   
"The Chamber of Secrets," muttered Ron, shaking his head. "Whatever possessed you to think of that?"   
"I dunno," replied Harry. "I was just thinking of all the places we've been in the past, trying to figure which one is safest. The Marauder's Map wouldn't really help us, because all the tunnels come out to Hogsmeade and McGonagall said Hogsmeade's been placed under the same spell restrictions."   
"Still," said Hermione thoughtfully, "at least they're a way out. If we could lead the students down _into_ the tunnels, the Dementors might not be able to catch them—especially if they've already passed by Hogsmeade."   
"They'd find them eventually," said Ron. "If they didn't find them in the school, they'd locate them somehow. They're _Dementors. _ They don't _need_ eyes."   
She frowned. "Well, that's positive."   
"I'm trying to be realistic."   
"Well, we don't need 'realistic.' We need hopeful, Ron."   
Ginny listened to them quarrel back and forth. _All the places we've been…_   
"Harry, may I borrow your invisibility cloak?" said Ginny quietly.   
"What?" he asked, his eyes widening. "How did you…"   
"Ron talks in his sleep. And, well…the twins have all sorts of methods of spying."   
Ron stopped arguing with Hermione for a moment, and glared at her.   
"Why?"   
"You mentioned something…you know, I don't wonder if maybe Malfoy's mom got the Floo's mixed up. The divination one was open yesterday…perhaps it was the one his Mum's contact opened again. I want to go and check it over."   
"Perhaps I should go instead," said Harry.   
"You don't have to do everything, Harry," Ginny replied.   
"I don't do everything!" he retorted. He glanced at Hermione and Ron, who had stopped arguing for a moment. Ron was doing his best to look disinterested, but Hermione had her arms crossed, a rather tentative expression on her face. "Well, Harry, you do have something of a…"   
"_Hero's complex, _" Harry snapped, before she could finish. "I know."   
"Besides," Ginny said, "if McGonagall returns, you're the first person she'll notice as missing, and you'll get into a great deal of trouble. If I'm gone, you can tell her I'm upstairs or something. She'll believe you."   
Hermione looked slightly unconvinced of this, and Harry pursed his lips, as though he were trying to think of an excuse. Surprisingly, it was Ron who acted, shaking his head and marching across the room to the boy's staircase. He returned a few moments later with the invisibility cloak tucked under his robes.   
While Hermione and Harry watched him with mouths opened, he leaned over to Ginny, whispering, "don't put it on until you're beyond the view of the Fat Lady. You had better be back her in no less than fifteen minutes, or I'm coming after you."   
"Right," she said, grinning.   
They walked over to the portrait hole. "If anyone misses you," said Ron, "I'll tell them you're in the loo."   
She nodded, pushing open the painting. The Fat Lady watched her with an eyebrow raised. "And where are you off to? Professor McGonagall said that you have to remain inside the Tower.   
"The lavatory," said Ginny calmly, winking at Ron. The Fat Lady eyed her suspiciously, but said nothing more. Behind her, Ginny could hear Hermione whisper, "Do you think this is a good idea?"   
"Ginny can handle herself," Ron replied. "Maybe she'll find something out that will help us."   
Ginny grinned, covering herself with the cloak the moment she was around the corner.   
  
The Divination classroom smelled of thick, pungent spices and aromatic herbs; sure signs that Professor Trelawney had returned. The fire, however, was unlit, and there was no sign of the retired instructor; she might have been locked away behind her decorative, bead-draped door.   
Ginny moved swiftly to the fireplace, then blanched.   
She hadn't brought any Floo powder.   
She searched around the hearth, hoping Madam Trelawney might keep some about, but there was nothing, not even a bit of the spare powder Draco had dropped the night before.   
_Draco…_   
She shook her head, trying to clear him out of her mind. He was the last thing she needed to be thinking about, at this point. But the memory of his face, smiling at her, or gazing down at her in confusion—it was hard to erase. He'd seemed so torn—and yet this morning he was the Malfoy she'd despised for so long…   
_He has so many faces…which one is real? _   
The trapdoor swung open; Ginny jumped, scrambling for a place to hide before realizing that the intruder would more than likely not be able to see her. She folded back against the wall, hugging the Invisibility Cloak to her.   
Draco Malfoy's silver-blond head peeped through the opening. Ginny felt the blood rise to her cheeks.   
_Of all people, why him? _   
He glanced about the classroom, checking, probably, for signs of Madam Trelawney. He then moved inside, walking casually over to the fireplace, and whisking out his same small bag of Floo powder. He tossed the powder in, muttering "Malfoy Manor."   
It sparkled and fluttered to the ground, but brought no green flames.   
"Folly," he whispered, laying his forehead on the mantle. "Why does it have to be like this? Why can't it all be _normal_ again?"   
"That's what I'd like to know," she said, yanking off the invisibility cloak and stuffing it under her robes.   
"BLOODY HE—" he whirled about, knocking a few of the Professor's cups off the top of the hearth. His wand was already in his hand. "What…"   
He paused as he caught sight of her. "_Ginny? _"   
There was the sound of shattering glass, and a rather hoarse, high-pitched wail from somewhere behind Madam Trelawney's office door.   
Ginny glanced at him, then bolted for the trapdoor, he doing the same. They sidled down as fast as they could, tearing through halls and staircases until they had gotten as far from the Divination Room as possible.   
"What…what were you doing in there?" Draco panted, as she slid down against the stone wall.   
"The same thing as you," she replied, trying to catch her breath. "Checking to see if your mum's contact had made a mistake. But I guess he didn't, did he?"   
"He wouldn't have defied my mother. He wouldn't have risked it. My aunt must have interfered, somehow."   
"She seems quite good at that," Ginny said, narrowing her eyes.   
"Yes," he said, starting to sit down next to her. She quickly rose, careful not to let the Invisibility Cloak slip loose.   
He watched her mid-sit. "Where are you going?"   
"Back to Gryffindor, of course. I was wrong, I have to let them know that."   
"But…"   
"But what? You want me to stay and chat? I've nothing more to say to you. I told you that this morning."   
"Yeah, I guess you didn't get your wish," he muttered.   
"Guess you didn't get _yours, _" she retorted.   
"What?! That stupid insult again?! I told you that was a mistake! I didn't mean it!"   
"Oh, really? Then tell me, Draco, what all exactly _do_ you mean? Because I must admit, I'm a bit muddled when it comes to your true intentions—I can't figure out which part of you is the real Draco and which part isn't!!"   
"I…" he paused, looking slightly confused. "I honestly don't know."   
"You don't _know? _"   
"You've got me all confused!" he shouted, throwing his arms up. "I can't even remember when the last time was that I felt normal! Or comfortable! The Slytherins don't trust me, you don't trust me, Potter doesn't trust me…I'm not even sure I trust _myself_! All I _do_ know is that I want this to be over with so that everything can go back to the way it was!"   
"The way it was. You hating me, I hating you. Is that it?"   
"Yes…No!!!"   
"Then what?"   
"I'm not sure! To be back in Slytherin again and proud of what I am! To hate Potter for all the right reasons! To…to…"   
"To stand in the shadows and watch? To do more harm than good? To hurt people intentionally, and take pleasure in it? Well then, you've accomplished that. You can go back to being a Slytherin, and a pure-blood. Go back to your dormitory. Pretend to be brave, like you always do, then hide away until Harry has gone and saved the day. Like he always does."   
He flushed red, his eyes narrowing dangerously.   
Something inside her told her to stop, but she couldn't. "I should never have believed that there was something good in you, Malfoy. And I did, for a little while. But now I've just ended up disappointed."   
"THAT'S RIGHT!" He roared, grabbing her by the shoulders. "BE DISAPPOINTED! LET IT BE POTTER, LIKE IT ALWAYS IS! POTTER THE MAGNIFICENT, WHO ALWAYS SAVES THE DAY! AS IF I'VE NEVER HEARD THAT BEFORE! WELL, LET'S JUST HAVE YOU DO IT TOO! TELL ME I'M NOT AS GOOD AS HIM! TELL ME I'VE NEVER MATCHED UP TO HIM! TELL ME, SO THAT YOU CAN BE LIKE EVERY OTHER BLOODY PERSON I'VE EVER CARED ABOUT IN MY LIFE, WHO ALL THINK I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH!!"   
She stared at him in shock. He lowered his head and released her, turning away. "What does it matter, anyhow, what you or I think? I'm the villain of this piece. I always have been, and I always will be. I'll never be Potter and I don't want to be. Nothing is going to change that."   
"You _aren't_ the villain. Voldemort…and you aunt…they're the real villains here. But you don't have to be. I've told you before, you can change."   
He snorted. "And how am I to go about that?"   
She moved to his side. "Learn to care about something other than yourself. That's all."   
His forehead creased. "What?"   
"Put something else first…and _know it_. Not because you think you do, but because you do."   
"I already do," he said, crossing his arms, his usual smirk settling back into place. "I care about the Slytherins."   
"No, you don't. None of you cares about the other where it would mean putting your life before theirs. Not really."   
He shook his head. "Don't try and tell me about the Slytherins, Ginny. I've told you before, you don't understand us. You think you do, but you don't. You want to break it down into good and bad, right and wrong, to make it simple, but its not. You still don't understand. And you never will."   
"Then help me to! Explain to me what I don't know."   
"I can't. You're not a Slytherin. You would never be able to appreciate what we think or feel. No more than I can understand what you or the other Gryffindors think and feel."   
"You're right. You don't know what I feel," she cried, her voice rising. "You don't know how frustrating it is, to see you stand there, and try and figure you out! To try and understand how you can help me, and then abandon me. To try and understand how you can protect me, then pretend that you don't care. To try and understand how I can love you and despise you all at the same time!"   
Draco's smirk washed from his face. "What did you say?"   
"N-nothing," she said swiftly, her face so red it outshone her hair. "I have to get back to Gryffindor."   
"Wait a minute!" He moved around in front of her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "What did you just say?"   
"Let me go!"   
"Did you just…did you…"   
"LET GO!"   
There was a loud grinding noise, and the stone gargoyle across the hall suddenly leapt up, revealing a small wooden door, through which, after a moment, Professor Dumbledore walked casually through. He paused at the scene before him, one eyebrow rising, Fawkes, who was perched on his shoulder, tilting his head. Draco released Ginny. She scrambled to pick up the Invisibility Cloak, which had slithered to the floor.   
"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Weasley…is anything the matter? Why are you out of your dormitories?"   
Both hesitated.   
Dumbledore watched them pleasantly, his blue eyes twinkling.   
"I…I had to go…find something," Ginny muttered.   
"And did you find it?"   
"Not quite," she said.   
"Well, I believe your search…and yours as well, Mr. Malfoy…will have to wait until tomorrow. For now, it would be safest for you to return to your dormitories."   
They both nodded.   
"And please, follow the instructions of you Heads of Houses, to ensure your safety. We certainly do not need any more surprises this evening."   
"Yes sir," they echoed in unison.   
As soon as he had turned the corner, Ginny moved away, heading down the corridor towards the main staircases. Draco moved up next to her.   
"Why did you say…_that_?"   
"I didn't mean to," she returned.   
"So, you didn't mean it?" he asked, sounding disappointed.   
They'd reached the Entrance Hall. She turned to him, surveying his anxious face. "I…I did mean it."   
His shoulders dropped, face softening, as though a weight had been lifted from him. "Ginny…"   
"But what does it matter now, Draco?" she asked wearily. "It changes nothing."   
"Yes, it does. It changes everything." He stepped closer to her, grasping her shoulders, his gray eyes searching her face.   
This time, it was she who pulled away. "No, it really doesn't. Like you said yourself, I don't understand you. And if I don't know you now, then I will never be able to. No matter what I feel for you, it won't change _that_. So why should we even try?"   
He said nothing.   
She turned sadly, and headed for the steps.   
"You're going to fight them, aren't you?" he asked after a moment. "I mean…you, and Potter and the rest…you're going down to the battlefield."   
"I don't know," she said truthfully. She didn't turn to him. "But if we do, then I'll be there. That, I can promise you."   
"But you might die."   
She continued up the steps without looking back. "Goodbye, Draco. And good luck."   
  
Ron was waiting outside Gryffindor by the time Ginny returned. "Thank Heavens!" he cried as she slid the Invisibility Cloak off. "McGonagall wanted to come back and put the charms on the Tower; we had to make up some story about Dennis Creevey getting a stomachache and having to go to the Hospital Wing. Of course, he had just popped one of Fred and George's Guaranteed Gastric Gobstoppers, so he might not have been lying. Hermione wasn't too thrilled; seemed he had a whole store of them—she'd been wondering why he kept popping in and out of the infirmary—guess he liked the taste so much that…what's wrong?"   
"Ron!" she cried, throwing herself against him. "Everything's all muddled…I don't understand anything anymore!"   
He let her sob into his robes, patting her head awkwardly. "It'll be alright, Ginny."   
"But why did things have to turn out like this? I never wanted this to happen. I didn't want it to be this way. We all have things we're meant to be. I wasn't…it shouldn't have been like this!"   
He clasped her shoulders softly, bending down to look her in the eyes. "Perhaps we _think_ they shouldn't be like this. But everything happens for a reason. And the more difficult it is to deal with, then perhaps the more important it is to resolve. We just have to realize that not everything will be easy, but that's its worth fighting for in the end."   
"Your brother's right, dearie," murmured the Fat Lady, observing Ron with approval. He blushed, straightened, and muttered "Phoenix Feather."   
The portrait swung open, allowing them inside.   
"And don't worry. We'll defeat them. The Professors are strong."   
She gave a half-hearted laugh. _He thinks I'm talking about the Dementors. _   
Harry turned to greet them as they came in. A few moments later, the portrait opened once more, revealing Hermione, a rather green-faced Dennis Creevey, and Professor McGonagall.   
"Very well, then, as I trust there are no more illnesses to account for, I shall place the appropriate charms on Gryffindor Tower."   
"What are you using, Professor?" asked Hermione meekly.   
"That is none of your concern, Miss Granger," replied the Professor, eyeing her suspiciously. "As it is, once these charms are placed, none of you shall be able to enter or leave Gryffindor. We expect you to be away from the windows by sundown. If, for some reason, you sense the Dementors coming, use this."   
She handed Hermione a small silver coin.   
"It has a counterspell placed upon it; it will allow you to exit the portrait hole without having to disarm the Charms. All you must do is recite "_Expellium Incantato_". Do not use this until you ABSOLUTELY have to, do you understand, Miss Granger?"   
Hermione nodded.   
"If you use it any sooner, the protections that have been set up will be voided, and the Dementors will be able to sense you easily. If you must leave the Tower, head down towards the Forbidden Forest. They may not be able to sense you as easily there, with the number of creatures that inhabit it. Be prepared, and in the meantime practice your Patroni—thank Heavens Professor Lynch decided to study them—in case you need them. Do you understand?"   
The students nodded.   
"NO FUNNY BUSINESS." She gazed straight at Harry when she said this; he tried to look as innocent as possible.   
"Well," She looked them over once, her lower lip trembling slightly. "Take care of yourselves, then. I shall see you when this little mess is over and done with."   
She turned, and exited through the Portrait hole.   
Ginny surveyed the room; most of the Gryffindors were watching the place she had stood, looking miserable. More than a few had to wonder whether that was the last time they would see their Head of House again.   
"This is ridiculous," said Dean Thomas, pounding his fist against the back of an armchair. "We can't just sit back here and let them face those Dementors alone! Those of us trained in the DA can manage a Patronus Spell—even Neville can do one now! We should at least try and help."   
"And run the risk of what…getting ourselves killed?" said Parvati Patil.   
"We run the risk of getting killed anyway," said Ron. "If Bellatrix Lestrange is anything like what we think she is, this isn't going to be just a small attack. We all run the risk of getting injured here…or worse. We might as well be helping out as best we can, and prevent as much injury as possible."   
Parvati looked unconvinced.   
"Look…you don't have to fight if you don't want to. No one is asking anyone to make sacrifices here. There are just some of us who might want to try and help the Professor," Harry said, rising. "Maybe what we should do is check and see how many people from the DA and the other Houses would want to join us in…in…"   
"In battle," finished Hermione determinedly.   
"Right. We can make our judgment from there."   
"And how are we supposed to do that?" said Seamus. "The Portrait Hole's been sealed and locked, and that charm repeller-thing would mean disarming the whole of the protections."   
"So what?" Ron replied. "We'll just undo them, then have Hermione do them back. I'm sure she can manage them."   
"No, Ron," Hermione said. "For one thing, I have no idea what all Professor McGonagall is using. For another, I'm not as skilled or as strong as she is. I might be able to provide as strong a protection as she could. And we still need those charms for the younger students."   
"Well, if we go outside, then we'll have to disarm them anyway."   
"Then we'll wait until we have to do that. I'm not going to displace them until I _absolutely have to. _"   
Ron started to open his mouth, but Harry interrupted. "Let's just figure out how to contact the other dormitories _first. _"   
"How about these?" said Lavender Brown, holding up a gold galleon. "Hermione made these last year for the DA…would they still work?"   
"They should—but there's no guarantee the members of the DA still have them. Besides," Hermione continued, "they wouldn't know what it was for."   
"They'd probably have a pretty good idea."   
"All the same…"   
"What about having Crookshanks deliver messages?" said Harry. "Could he get under the spells?"   
Hermione looked doubtful. "I'm not certain. I don't know exactly what Professor McGonagall put the spells on. If it's the portrait, he could set the whole thing off."   
"I wish Dobby were here…I bet the House Elves can apparate _inside_ the school."   
"Ron, that's it!" cried Hermione excitedly. "Where's Nick?"   
From the far corner of the room, Nearly-Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, breezed through the crowd, leaving a trail of shivering Gryffindors in his wake. "Yes, Hermione?"   
"Nick, can you get to the kitchens?"   
"I believe so," he said, tilting his head to the side and causing it to nearly come off. "But…I've been asked to keep an eye on you. I don't think trying to assist you in breaking out is what the Professor had in mind."   
"Please, Nick," said Harry. "You know as well as I do that staying here isn't going to solve anything. But if you help us, then maybe we _can_ do something."   
Nick frowned, but glanced back and forth between the two of them, then at the rest of the Gryffindors, most looking rather determined and brave.   
"Oh, very well. It would do no good to have more than one ghost per dormitory anyhow. What is it you need me to do?"   
"Can you go down to the kitchens and ask the House Elves and see if any of them can _apparate_—and only apparate—inside the Gryffindor common room?"   
"Certainly."   
"While you'd going down there," said Harry, "give a message to the other ghosts, if you see them? Tell them to tell the members of their houses that the DA is trying to meet up to help the professors. Tell them that we'll be sending messages as to where and when by either House Elf or their House ghosts, and _not to leave the dormitories before then_. Can you remember all that?"   
"Of course," Nick said, standing up straighter. "But I can't guarantee that the Bloody Baron will cooperate." He glided through the wall silently, the others watching him in trepidation.   
"Well then, now what?" asked Dean.   
Harry turned to them. "We practice."   
  
"Well, then, its set. You are not to leave the dormitories for any reason whatsoever, unless the Floo becomes available." Professor Snape handed Draco the tiny silver sickle. "Very well then, I expect you all to adhere to what you've learned, and to use it, should you need it. Farewell."   
Without another glance at the group of gathered Slytherins, he turned and marched out the door.   
Draco flipped the coin in his hand, surveying the room. Most of the Slytherins looked downhearted and rather depressed, like they'd never be seeing their Head of House again.   
"Well then, what are you moping about for? Might as well practice those Patronus spells and whatever else you might need," he snapped, startling them. "No point in hoping that the Professors will be able to stand through all of this."   
The group began to disperse, most of the students eyeing him warily.   
"What's happened, Draco? Why are you so standoffish?" said Pansy, moving over to him. "The last thing we need is for you to become pessimistic and useless."   
"I'm NOT," he muttered. "I'm being realistic."   
"Realistic or not, Draco, they need you to be strong. Don't start acting all Weasley on us now."   
"What did you say?" he said suddenly.   
She stared at him in surprise, one eyebrow raising. "Don't be such a coward, is all."   
He threw her a dirty look, and moved away, flipping the coin methodically in his hand.   
"What's wrong with you, Draco?" Pansy cried in frustration. "You haven't been the same since you came back from the Divination classroom…or from Malfoy Manor, for that matter. What happened to you?" She grabbed him by his arms, whirling him around. "What did she do to you?"   
He turned away, unable to look at her. Pansy's lower lip began to tremble, and she put her hands to her face.   
"Why?" she whispered. "In just one day…she…I just…don't understand…"   
"Neither do I," he replied.   
She burst into tears and turned from him. He moved to the fireplace, leaning his head against the mantle.   
He could barely focus on anything, anymore. Not even Snape's departure had resonated with him. He was still trapped in the hallway across from Dumbledore's office.   
_I can love you…_   
Ginny consumed him. She was everywhere. He could care less about the Dementors, about Slytherin, about Potter, about Snape. All he could see, and feel, and hear, was Ginny. Every time he tried to stop, to think about the battle ahead, or about the danger to those he cared about, those words returned to haunt him.   
He couldn't get her out of his head. No matter what he did. If the other Slytherins found out, they were likely to disown him, or worse, but it didn't matter to him anymore. Not that they might not already know. Like Pansy, they were sure to have figured something was going on, but were either too disgusted or too afraid to ask him.   
_I'm losing everything I ever was because of that girl. All that really mattered…_   
The Bloody Baron floated through the far wall, a malicious grin on his face. "Listen to this," he moaned in a voice that send tremors through the First Years, "that half-brained half-headed ghoul of a ghost Nick told me that Potter is organizing the DA, and wants the Slytherins to join in. Looks like we will have a full house of Spirits by the end of the night!" He floated off through the ceiling, cackling hoarsely.   
"The DA?" questioned a First Year. "What's that?"   
"A little band of nobodies Potter organized," spat Millicent. "The Inquisitorial Squad took care of them last year. Guess this means he's planning on assembling a group to fight."   
A wave of terror, more powerful than any he'd ever felt, shot through Draco.   
_If they're battling, I'll be there…   
Ginny…_   
"And he wants us to help," sneered Avery. "I'd go…if only to see him get swallowed up by a Living Shroud."   
"Or brought to his knees by a group of Dementors."   
"And see Granger…and the Weasleys…_ALL_ of the Weasleys," added Pansy evilly, "…get it too."   
"SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" Draco yelled suddenly, whirling about to face them. "At least he's doing SOMETHING! What are we doing—waiting here to die?"   
"What?" said Goyle, turning to him.   
"You…you're siding with _Potter_?" asked Crabbe confusedly.   
"Draco, what in the bloody hell is wrong with you!" screamed Nott. "First you get defensive and angry that we won't help, then you tell us we shouldn't, now you're deciding…_what_…that we need to _ally_ with Potter? Have you gone mad?"   
"This has nothing to do with Potter!"   
"You're right…it has nothing to do with _Potter_," hissed Pansy.   
"Be quiet."   
"It has to do with _Weasley. _"   
"I told you to be quiet."   
"Do you think we're stupid?" said Millicent icily, interrupting them. "Do you think we haven't been able to notice a change? We know what's going on here."   
"You don't know anything."   
"Right after your little trip down the Floo…"   
"With that…that…freckle-faced _nobody…_"   
"Stuck together for how long?"   
"SHUT UP!"   
"JUST SAY IT!" screeched Pansy, startling them all. "SAY IT! SAY THAT YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH THAT LITTLE MUDBLOOD LOVING RED-HAIRED TWIT!"   
"_I AM NOT_!" he bellowed. "HOW DARE YOU? HOW COULD YOU EVEN THINK…THAT…" he paused, his mind whirling, as the entire Slytherin common room went completely silent, watching them.   
Pansy's face was streaked with tears. "I…I'm sorry…I know that…I know that you could never betray us like that…I'm sorry, Draco."   
_How could I have been such a fool…_   
"So am I," he said, turning to her. "Because you were right."   
Without another word to the mass of Slytherins watching him in shock, he turned and strode up the stairs to his room.   
  
Nick returned after less than half an hour. "The House Elves _can_ apparate within the corridors of Hogwarts," he said excitedly. "Just not beyond."   
"Excellent," Harry said.   
"Dobby will be coming to see your shortly, although I can tell you what the other House ghosts said. The Fat Friar told the Hufflepuffs, and they more than agreed to help—in fact they're waiting for your signal. The Gray Lady said the Ravenclaws were a little more tentative, but Padma Patil and Luna seemed to be able to convince most of them otherwise.   
"As for the Slytherins…I didn't speak to the Bloody Baron after he left me, but he seemed to laugh at the idea…so I don't know you're going to get much help from them."   
"But he told them?" asked Harry.   
"HE, at least, knows," returned Nick.   
"Thank you, Nick, that was brilliant. Alright then, what now?"   
"I think we should schedule a time to meet…right about sundown, after the Professors have left to go outside the castle. That way no one will be left to make us return, and we won't be distracting them initially," said Hermione.   
Harry nodded. "Right, then. How about the Great Hall? It's large enough to hold all of us."   
"What about the charms on the doors?" asked Ron. "What do we do about those?"   
"Ahhhh…that was something I knew you'd approve!" said Nick with a smile. "The Gray Lady asked Professor Flitwick what he was using, and he gave her a list." He pulled out a rather tatty piece of parchment. "Sorry, its all I had at the moment."   
He handed it to Hermione, who shivered at his touch, but looked it over gleefully. "Nick, this is wonderful! Of course, I'm sure they're a rather difficult combination of spells…mmm, this one's particularly clever…and…I don't wonder but she shouldn't have used the sister spell to this one…and here's…well, who would have thought? A First Year spell! They are rather complex, but I think I can manage most of them, save the Stone Barrier and the Reckoning spell. They're incredibly advanced…more like Auror training."   
She handed the list to Harry. "You should be able to manage these as well."   
He looked at her doubtfully, but glanced at the list and nodded. "We'll show this to the other Houses too. Nick, can you run back out again and tell the other ghosts—at least for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, anyhow—what we've decided?"   
"The Great Hall at sundown? Right."   
"And tell them we'll be sending copies of the spells used by the Professors. They can break the concealment charms right before we meet, but not before…if they want anyone's help from one of the other houses recasting them, just let us know by House Elf."   
"And what about the House Elves?"   
"Tell Dobby and a few of the others to pop up here, if they can. We'll send them out with instructions."   
He nodded, and floated out.   
Harry turned to the rest of the group. "Alright, then…only those who are capable of producing a Patronus will be able to come. The rest of you will have to stay here. But you'll be able to keep an eye out through the windows."   
"Mmm…perhaps we ought to leave a few people who are trained here. Just in case?" said Hermione.   
Harry glanced about the group. Most wore determined looks on their faces.   
"Not me," said Seamus.   
"Not me," joined Dean and Neville.   
Harry frowned. "Lavender, Parvati?" he said finally. "Can you look after the Tower?"   
Lavender nodded quickly, followed by Parvati, who appeared slightly disappointed.   
"So, if the Dementors do break through the lines, just do what Professor McGonagall said," Hermione ordered, handing Parvati the silver coin. "I'll re-enchant this with unlocking capabilities when I've reset the spells. Use it the same way she instructed as before."   
There was a loud crack, and another, and a third, which sent most of the younger Gryffindor scurrying to the far reaches of the common room. Harry grinned at Dobby, who looked back sheepishly.   
"Mister Harry Potter is needing us, sir?"   
"Yes, Dobby."   
Hermione was jotting down copies of the list of spells as quickly as she could.   
"You take this one to Ravenclaw," Harry instructed, handing over a list, along with a few added notes, to a sweet little female Elf. "And you take this one to Hufflepuff."   
The other Elf, a burly, rather strong looking fellow, nodded curtly, and disappeared.   
Harry turned to Dobby, and grabbed a piece of parchment, scribbling down a few lines separate from what he'd already added to Hermione's list. "And you, please take this to Slytherin."   
Dobby gulped. "Is…is the young Mister Potter sure of Dobby's needing to do this?"   
"Please, Dobby. I promise…if they try anything, you can leave there—in fact, I order you—"   
Hermione frowned at him.   
"Rather, I _request_ that you leave immediately. But…listen to me, Dobby…I don't want you to give this to anyone _but_ your old master…Master Draco."   
Ron's jaw dropped open; from her position in an armchair by the fire, Ginny swiveled around.   
"_Trust_ me." Harry whispered. "Can you do that, Dobby?"   
Dobby looked rather frightened, but nodded. "Dobby will be doing this for Harry Potter." In a flash he was gone.   
"Alright then. Let's get prepared. The Professors will need our help, and we're going to be ready."   
The Gryffindors cheered.   
  
Draco stared at the empty fireplace. His mind was no longer a jumble of confused thoughts…but his chest felt heavy, and he knew that he couldn't face the Slytherins downstairs.   
It had become clear to him, why he'd been so uncertain. Why he'd be unable to hold onto the things that had given him comfort before. Why he'd been unnecessarily harsh with Pansy, with the other Slytherins…even with Potter. Why he'd felt that unmatchable fear when he found out that Potter really had organized the DA to do battle. The answer had been simple, and staring him in the face the whole time.   
He was in love with her.   
He was in love with Ginny Weasley.   
How, or when, he didn't know, and at this point, he didn't care. He understood what she had said, earlier, about changing things, about knowing exactly when you began to care about something other than yourself. Because when Pansy had yelled it at him to say what he felt, it wasn't anger that had responded back.   
It was fear.   
He was afraid. Afraid that she was going to die tonight and he would never see her again.   
And he cared more about that than anything. _That_ was what _really _mattered.   
But now…   
He wasn't a fool. He knew that things would never be as easy as they had been before this mess had started. Not only would he have to face the Slytherins, to make them…forgive him—he'd have to deal with Potter and Weasley and all the rest. And they would never be so understanding. Not even for Ginny.   
But he didn't have time to think on that. She was going outside, to face the Dementors, and Bellatrix Lestrange, and there was nothing he could do to stop her.   
That terrified him.   
As before, in his home, she was his immediate concern. But he couldn't take on Dementors on his own. And he couldn't leave the common room to the mercies of such creatures just for Ginny…even if she meant more to him than anyone else. Because to the Slytherins, she meant nothing, and though it might pain him, he would not abandon everyone else just to save her.   
He smirked. _I'm even starting to THINK like Potter. _   
A blinding flash lit the room, and Draco leapt from the bed, heart pounding. A tiny House Elf was standing in his room, dressed strangely in a rather beat up looking coat, tiny trousers, a rather poorly knitted cap, and the most horribly mismatched pair of socks Draco had ever seen.   
With a trembling hand, he held a parchment out to Draco. "M-Master is to look at this…p-please…"   
The Elf was fatter, and less tired, than he remembered, but the voice was unmistakable.   
"Dobby?"   
The little Elf flinched under Draco's darkened stare. "Harry Potter instructs Dobby to give this to you or Dobby would not have bothered the Young Master. Please to not be harming Dobby, sir?"   
Draco glared at him, but snatched the note out of his hands. "Don't call me Master, Dobby, you no longer have the honor of serving the Malfoys."   
"Y-yes, M-m…Young sir."   
There were two pieces of paper in the bundle. The first was a list of spells, probably the ones used to conceal Slytherin, and a small note detailing a meeting in the Great Hall at sundown, along with instructions to contact Potter for further details.   
Draco snorted. The second paper was nearly bare, save for three words scratched out in Potter's loopy, girlish handwriting: 

**_ She will fight…_**

  
  
The paper fluttered to the floor.   
He crumpled the list of spells in his fist. Dobby trembled in the corner, clutching his ugly knitted cap tightly between his small hands.   
"What are you still doing here?" Draco hissed.   
The House Elf jumped with a whimper, snapped his fingers, and disapparated.   
Draco bowed his head, fully aware of what he had to do. He steeled himself, and opened his dormitory door, heading for the stairs. He had until sundown.   
  
De-charming the Tower took much less time than Harry thought, for which he was glad. Only Hufflepuff had requested help in resetting their defenses; Hermione had gone to take care of that while he finished up Gryffindor.   
"Don't worry, it'll be alright," he said to Parvati as he handed her the re-charmed coin. "You won't need this at all."   
"You be careful, Harry. You all be careful," she said tearfully. Lavender's lower lip trembled as the Fat Lady closed in front of her.   
"You really shouldn't be doing this, you know," The Fat Lady chided disapprovingly at the large group of Gryffindors. "You're going to make things worse."   
"For the Dementors," said Seamus snidely.   
She narrowed her eyes at him. Harry muttered another "don't worry," and turned for the Great Hall.   
As they neared it, they could see down to the Entrance Hall, which, surprisingly, had not been sealed, more than likely because it was going to serve as a recovery base for the Professors.   
More chocolate than Harry had ever seen in his life was piled within the foyer; mounds upon mounds of it stacked in small hills and mountains that reached almost to the ceiling.   
Hermione was waiting for them in the Great Hall, surrounded by a number of Hufflepuffs, although they weren't as great in mass as the Gryffindors.   
"Not everyone can do a Patronus," said Ernie Macmillan nervously. "But everyone who could came to help."   
"Thanks," said Harry gratefully.   
Ginny stood near the back, eyeing the doors to the Hall every few moments. Harry hoped, for her sake, that his note to Malfoy had worked.   
A few moments later, a slightly larger number of Ravenclaws appeared through the door, although not nearly as many as Harry knew could perform the Patronus. Cho was not among them, which irritated him even more, because he knew that she could cast a beautiful, useful Patronus. Surprisingly, though, her old 'friend' Marietta, who'd turned in the DA last year, was.   
Luna lead the group, her wand tucked behind her ear as it customarily was. "Some of us felt we needed more guards," she said airily, as though it was clear it wasn't her. "But everyone here is capable of producing a Patronus on command. Why they would need them, I don't know. We have our own fair amount of puffskeins, and everyone knows they attack Dementors when provoked."   
Hermione rolled her eyes.   
In total, the group was rather respectable, though not as large as Harry had hoped. At least it could outnumber the Professors two to one, however, meaning that they would have three times the number of defenders than they had started out with.   
They drew closer as he began to explain the ideas he, Hermione and Ron had sketched out for coverage of the grounds, keeping an eye on the doors. After quite a few answered questions, some last minute suggestions by some of the Hufflepuff students (who turned out to be rather exceptional at team strategizing, which explained their always challenging Quidditch style), and a few practiced spells, Neville pointed out that the sun had set.   
Harry gazed out of the windows at the fading rosy light, which was about to disappear above the horizon. The doors to the Great Hall remained empty.   
"Let's go, then," he said determinedly.   
Ginny was one of the last few to leave, her wand hanging limply by her side. Ron and Hermione both passed her, gazing at each other worriedly, but not saying anything.   
Harry came up alongside her as the last of the Gryffindors exited through the doors. "I'm really sorry, Ginny. I really thought he would come."   
"Me too," she said, very softly. She screwed her face up, wiping at one cheek with her fist. "What are we waiting for, then? We've got some Dementors to defeat. This is our school…we're not going to let it fall, right?"   
"Right."   
Ron and Hermione had paused at the doors. Harry and Ginny marched towards them, then led the way through the group of students—pausing to pocket some of the immense store of chocolate—then moved beyond it, to the massive front doors.   
  
Draco made his way down into the silent Slytherin common room. Only a few initially noticed his appearance: Millicent, Avery and Nott throwing him dark looks; Blaise, who was trying to comfort a still shaking Pansy, glaring at him hatefully. Crabbe and Goyle looked lost and a little afraid.   
"Potter wants us to help," he said, tossing the crumpled sheet of spells to Millicent. "He and the rest of the school are probably on their way out to the grounds right now. All the other Houses. Except us."   
"Good," spat Nott. "Saves the Dark Lord a little work."   
"Of course it does. Saves our parents a bit of work, too—at least those of us whose parents _aren't_ in Azkaban."   
Nott stared at him confusedly. "What, are you back to hating Potter now?"   
"I never _stopped_ hating Potter," said Draco coldly. "And I doubt I ever will."   
"So then…_what_? What does that mean?"   
"It means," he leaned back against the fireplace. "That very little has changed. I'm going to continue to hate Potter, and Weasley, and all the other Gryffindors, because they all hate me. And Slytherin."   
Pansy sniffled, but turned to face him.   
"What I'm not going to do is sit idly by and let them take all the glory for what we are able to do. Before, we thought that if we kept to ourselves, that we were showing we were better than Potter. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Everyone else thought we were lower—lower than a half-blood, lower than a _mudblood_. And we acted like we didn't care…but we did."   
The Slytherins were silent, most of the younger ones fearfully so, the rest simply waiting for him to continue.   
"Instead of showing him that we, the pure-bloods, the most noble of all the Houses—instead of showing Dumbledore, and Snape, and everybody else that we were capable of doing what Potter was doing…instead we acted like we couldn't, and everybody began to believe we couldn't."   
"Couldn't do what?" interrupted Blaise. "Save a mudblood? Defy the Dark Lord? We wouldn't do that anyway!"   
"Everything. Not just the large things," Draco replied. "The little things too. Not picking fights in class…chasing after them for breaking stupid rules…docking them points because they breathed. Those were the things that people looked down on us for. And when Potter and his little band turned around and fought back, we ended up looking the idiot because we hadn't bothered to learn what they knew. We were better than they were, so we didn't need to be like them. Which is exactly why they looked better than us."   
"With their charms and such," said Millicent, looking sick. "Granger and her little mudblood supporters."   
"So then…what, Draco? We go about supporting Dumbledore and the rest? Is that how we prove our _worth_? Hugging mudbloods and pushing the Dark Lord aside?"   
"Of course not. We can't do that, because that's not who we are," Draco said. "We can't change from Slytherins overnight. Nor would we want to. We should be proud to be what we are."   
"But you can't have it both ways, Draco," hissed Pansy. "You can't love…you can't believe in Potter and believe in the Dark Lord too."   
"I believe in _ME_." Draco replied. "I believe in what I hold to be true. And my truth says pure-bloods are superior, and Potter is not."   
"And what about the Dark Lord?" asked Avery harshly. "Do you believe in him?"   
"I believe in what he stands for. But whether I believe in his methods is a question for another time…not tonight. Tonight, for once, it is not about the Dark Lord," said Draco staring at him. "It is about Hogwarts."   
"Hogwarts," Millicent snorted. "Why should we care about this good for nothing school?"   
"Because Salazar Slytherin did. Because our parents do. Because the Dark Lord did. And because Snape does, too. So much so he's willing to die for it."   
"Then go and join him, Draco. But don't expect us to follow," Pansy said, rising. "For all that Snape might be trying to do, it doesn't change that we'd have to side with mudbloods…with Dumbledore…and _Potter_. Something we've sworn we'd _never_ do. Or have you forgotten that?."   
He looked her straight in the eyes. "I've not forgotten. But I'm not going to view it as that. I might have to fight alongside Potter, but I'm not going to fight _for_ him. Or Dumbledore. I'm fighting for _Slytherin_. For _you_."   
Pansy gazed at him in surprise. He walked over to her, grasping her softly by the shoulders. "But I cannot do this without you. Any of you—and you know that."   
The other Slytherins stared back at him, silent.   
"If you believe in what the Dark Lord is doing, then fine. Despise the muggles and the mudbloods. But remember that what's attacking tonight has _nothing_ to do with him—or them. Bellatrix will see us all dead, along with Hogwarts and everything your parents, your grandparents, and your ancestors worked to build. And everything we have tried so hard to become…to prove…all that will be _destroyed_. Can you really just sit back and let that happen?"   
"But what can we show them, Draco?" said Goyle quietly. "Anything we do will look like Potter's doing. The Gryffindors will come out saving the day, as always. And the Slytherins will be second best."   
"Not this time." Draco raised his wand, pausing for a moment as a smile spread across his face. "_Expecto Patronum_."   
The Slytherins watched, open-mouthed, as a large, silver Patronus burst forth from his wand, blowing through them gracefully. Most stared in awe, but a few smiled gleefully.   
"We're capable of much more than any of the other Houses. They _need_ us. We are the force that will mean victory or defeat for everyone else. But we have to prove that—and we have to prove it tonight…or we might never again get the chance. Will you let us…or will you sit back, and do nothing?"   
The Patronus slowly faded into the dark ceiling, the beautiful silver light flickering out   
Millicent rose, watching the place where it had dissipated, then slowly turned to him, her square jaw set. "You betrayed us, Draco. You're spouting ideas your father would be ashamed to hear. You feel…something…for a mudblood lover. What do you think?"   
  
Harry shoved open the doors to Hogwarts, the rest of the students following behind him in a shivering, tentative mass. The grounds of the school were dark, and terrifyingly silent.   
Hermione was beside him, trembling. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and nodded at Ron, who returned the gesture with a pale, if determined face. Ginny had her shoulders squared, and stood with a fierce determination, as though nothing, not even an army of Dementors, could stop her.   
He pulled out his wand, and started out; the other students fanned out behind him, forming a long line down the front of the castle.   
Far ahead of them, the Professors had spread out near the gates, their wands raised and lit. Professor Dumbledore stood nearest the entranceways, his own wand by his side, watching. A few of the Professors were missing, including Snape; Harry figured they were on the other sides of the grounds, patrolling them with Hagrid, Firenze, and the rest of the volunteers from Hogsmeade.   
The doors to Hogwarts remained empty. The Slytherins had abandoned them.   
The Headmaster turned as Harry and the large group of students made their way down the hill.   
"Mister Potter, Miss Granger, Mister Weasley…what is the meaning of this? Why are you out here? You should be inside!" Professor McGonagall came running over to them, her hat tipping to the side. "You broke the charms!"   
"We're going to help," said Harry determinedly, looking at Dumbledore. "This is our school."   
"This is no place for students, I'm afraid," said Professor Flitwick, also joining them. "This is going to be extremely dangerous."   
"We know that," said Hermione calmly. For the first time, she looked somewhat at ease. "But some of us have faced these before. And most of us can perform a Patronus spell quite well. We can help. And we've reset the charms…well, most of them anyway."   
"Its true that they can perform most elements of the Patronus," said Professor Lynch, coming up behind Dumbledore and the rest. "But even so, Mister Potter, this is nothing to what you've faced in the past."   
"You don't know _what_ we've faced in the past," said Ron. "Harry's dealt with Death Eaters—with Voldemort…and with Bellatrix. And so have many of the rest of us, at least in some form. We know perfectly well what we're going up against."   
"And what might happen," said Ginny.   
"Still…"   
"Let them be," said Dumbledore suddenly, and softly. "I have underestimated Harry many times in the past, and he, and many others, have suffered dearly for it. This time, I won't let my desire to see them protected interfere with what I know they're capable of. We will need their help. Otherwise, we'll all be destroyed."   
"But, Albus," Professor McGonagall cried, looking more frightened than Harry had ever seen her, "they're _children…_"   
"And they are all going to die, Minerva, if we don't try and stop this now. All of them will die."   
She glanced from Harry's determined face to Dumbledore's somber one, then stepped back, heaving the deepest sigh she could muster.   
"You will stay back, Harry…you and all the rest, until we absolutely need you…is that clear? You can use your Patronus spells from a very safe distance. If any of you begin to feel the effects of the Dementors, you _must retreat to the castle_. Madam Pomfrey has a large supply of chocolate that was prepared for us in the Entrance Hall…make your way there if you can."   
"We understand, Professor," said Harry, reaching into his robes and pulling out some of the chocolate he had stored there. "And we're ready."   
Dumbledore smiled as the rest of the group reached in and showed him the chocolate they had ready. "Just take care of yourselves."   
Harry nodded. The group backed away, to the crest of the hill, overlooking the path down to the gates.   
Hermione and Ron moved over to him, Hermione looking worried, and Ron, frightened.   
"Don't worry," he said casually, careful to place his own trembling hands behind him. "We can do this."   
At least his scar wasn't hurting him—a sure sign this had nothing to do with Voldemort.   
Hermione nodded. "We can. We've been able to do this for ages…and we…well you—you've faced this many Dementors before."   
"We've faced them…you fought them off, too."   
"Not really, Harry. Its been you, doing all of this, all along."   
He placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Its been all of us. Even when you both weren't there, you were. And you're here, now, as I knew you would be."   
Ron looked slightly mollified, despite his pale face. "Of course we are, mate. We'd never abandon you…or Hogwarts."   
"We'll always be here for you, Harry. Always," said Hermione softly.   
He smiled at her.   
"LOOK!" screamed a voice from somewhere within the crowd.   
They turned. Over the lake, a chill mist was rising, spilling across the water in thin, transparent waves. In front of them, the breaths of the Professor suddenly became visible as a foggy, bitter wind floated through the gates.   
An immense cold blew inwards, towards the castle. Above them, the stars seemed to blink out, one by one, and the dim light cast by the moon faded until it was almost pitch black.   
A hollow echo blew through the fences.   
The students behind him began to shiver. All the Professors raised their wands, Dumbledore standing ready in the front. Along the lakeside, far down the hill, the other Professors, and the Hogsmeade wizards, including Snape, had emerged, their wands raised and pointed to its far side.   
"Bloody hell…" whispered Ron, staring down the path.   
From the shadows, a line of darkness was moving forwards, towards the castle. Across the lake, a gigantic swath of black covered the outer edges, floating across like a gigantic ebony shroud, enfolding the grounds in darkness.   
There were more Dementors gathered before them than Harry could have ever imagined. Alongside them floated strange, linen-like folds, whipping about in the soft, bitter breeze that accompanied the onslaught.   
"Living Shrouds," breathed Hermione.   
"They're the same as the Dementors," said Harry, grateful he'd paid attention during one of Grubbily-Plank's substitute classes. "Don't worry," he whispered, loud enough for the group of students to hear. "They will fall with a Patronus. Don't let any of them get near you!"   
In front of them, the Professors stood, wands ready, as the Dementors reached the gates.   
It seemed an eternity…Dumbledore lifting his wand slightly higher…the other Professors doing the same…the Dementors closing in around the gates, sliding their shadowy forms through the bars…closing in on the Professors…   
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!" shouted Dumbledore.   
A great silvery blur burst from his wand, so large and swift that Harry couldn't make out what image had emerged. It slammed into the first wave of Dementors forcefully, whipping them up off the ground and shooting them into the darkness of the sky.   
Around them, the grounds exploded with bursts of great silver-blue light as the Professors began their attack on the approaching Dementors. Waves of the hooded figures, and the Living Shrouds, began to burst apart, flying upwards into the darkness of night.   
But the lines continued to advance.   
More and more Dementors emerged from the shadows…they were halfway across the lake, despite the Patroni being launched by Snape and his group, and more and more continued their descent upon the line of Professors at the gate.   
Professor McGonagall fell to her knees, clutching her chest.   
"Come on, we have to help," Harry said. The students moved forward tentatively, falling into rank behind him. "This is it."   
The Dementors continued to advance, some of them slipping forward, through the breaks in the Professors' line. Flitwick, his little unicorn Patronus chasing away a few of the Living Shrouds, managed to help Professor McGonagall to her feet.   
Harry turned slightly to the side, raising his wand above his head. The Dementors continued to advance.   
Hermione and Ron followed suit, somewhat shakily. The rest of the students raised their wands.   
"EXPECTO…PATRONUM!!!" he shouted.   
His great silvery stag burst forth from his wand, cutting a swath through the oncoming Dementors. Around him, the other students pointed their wands at the invading army, and called forth their patroni.   
Hermione's beautiful silver otter glided through the gates, taking on the yet unseen of the Dementors' army. Ron's lion thudded off towards the far left hand side of the grounds, to aid a few professors whose attacks were failing.   
The group of students began to break apart, Harry staying in the lead atop the crest of the hill, Ron and Hermione beside him. The others began to fan out across the grounds as per their plan, facing off against the Dementors that were slipping between the attacking teachers, and trying to make sure none of the Professors succumbed to the Dementors' powers.   
Neville managed a small Patronus of a toad, sending it scampering towards Professor Sprout, who had slipped to her knees beneath an oncoming creature.   
Ginny was far to the right, her own fox Patronus dancing forward, down the slopes towards the lake. Ron turned to check on her, then dodged to the right to take care of a Living Shroud that had come dangerously close to Michael Corner.   
The Dementors had begun to overpower the professors, and were pushing them back. Dumbledore shot another one with his large, silvery Patronus, which Harry could now see was a Phoenix, and motioned with his wand to the others to fall back into a tighter line.   
"Fall back," Harry yelled over the din, motioning to the students to step backwards.   
The chill released by the Dementors was becoming overpowering; Harry was having a hard time breathing. Hermione's breath came out in clouds, puffing around her face, and Ron's freckles stood out against his pale skin, tinged blue by the cold.   
"Fall back, fall back!" echoed Professor Flitwick, turning towards them. A Dementor slid up behind him swiftly, raising its hands to its hood.   
"No…" Hermione gasped, racing forward. "_Expecto Patronum!_"   
The Dementors let out a raspy shudder, and flew to the sky. Hermione tumbled to her knees, clutching her chest.   
"C-cold…" she whispered.   
Harry was struggling with the groups of students that were trying to push past him. "Hermione!"   
A Living Shroud wafted towards her as she sagged to the ground.   
"HERMIONE!"   
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" yelled Ron, and his lion shot forward, burying the Shroud. Harry shuddered in relief as Ron lifted Hermione into his arms, half-carrying her across the grounds.   
Around him, the grounds has burst into chaos. The students became a panicking mass as the line of Dementors finally broke apart, the creatures abandoning form to float throughout the crowd randomly, sending the teachers into a fluster of racing wands and spells.   
"Be on guard!" Harry yelled to the students, some of whom were retreating back to the castle. He broke off a piece of chocolate and handed it to Hermione, who took it gratefully. "Are you alright?"   
"F-fine…" she chattered.   
"Where's Ginny?" Ron cried suddenly, as color began to return to Hermione's face.   
Harry glanced about, through the mass of students that was now racing aimlessly about the grounds. He caught sight of Ginny and a small group of Gryffindors, fighting tirelessly with their Patroni, aiming for a block of Dementors that were floating towards them, and near the entrance of the castle.   
"This…this isn't working," Hermione whispered. "We need more students…there are too many of them."   
"We have to do what we can," Harry replied. "It's the only thing we can do."   
"GINNY!"   
Ron bolted forward as the small group, Ginny at the head, began to sink to their knees. An overwhelming cold flowed from the Dementors, and as he neared them, Ron's pace began to slow, and he shivered uncontrollably.   
Harry started forward, but the chill coming from the group began to spread. Hermione fell to the ground, clutching at her throat. Harry bent down to her, watching Ginny anxiously.   
Ron straggled to his feet. "Ex-exp-pec-too…Pa-pa-paTRONUM!"   
A puff of silver smoke blew out of his wand, but nothing more. Harry raised his. "Expecto…"   
A screech behind him interrupted the spell. He turned, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Vector were trying to stop a huge wave of Dementors from destroying the gates.   
Harry whipped around. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"   
His stag sliced through the mass of Dementors, tearing them apart and whisking them to the heavens. He returned his attention to Ginny, trying to direct his stag to the small group of creatures that had descended upon her.   
"GINNY!" Ron cried, trying to stay on his feet.   
She'd collapsed on the ground, her wand pointed weakly at the descending Dementor. "Ex—ex…p…"   
The Dementor raised a scaly hand to its head, and began to remove its hood, only inches from Ginny's face.   
"_GINNY!!!!! _"   
  
What do _you_ think? The poor Slytherins. They're terribly confused right now…but wouldn't you be, if your hero was acting completely out of sorts? And I know, I know, its an evil cliffy…but I like them, they make people come back and read… And if you think this one is bad, wait until my last one…it's a doozy. In fact, I'll even start it for you here: The last two spoken words of chapter six are going to be: "_Avada Kedavra. _" Happy reading! ;) 


	6. Shadow Bound

_Author's Note: I'm putting these at the beginning because I'm going to let the end speak for itself. First off, I have to thank each and every person who's come to review so far…I decided to write chapter one of this fic just for fun one day, because a few of my friends loved the Draco/Ginny pairing—I NEVER expected such a response, or such nice words from so many people. Especially those who have pointed out that the fic remains clear—and within canon, which is my greatest concern—since at times all writers feel like they're stuck in the mud. Sincerely, thank you.   
  
Secondly, the inspiration for this chapter, and, rather, the whole story, comes from the song "My Immortal" by the band Evanescence. If you've never heard it, go listen…its phenomenal. As I was exercising one day, trying to come up with an end to In the Shadows, I heard this, and it became extremely clear, from the first line of this chapter, to the adventures of D/G before, and to the end of the story.   
  
Finally, don't worry too much…Chapter 7 will be coming very shortly, I won't leave you hanging too long…_   
  
In the Shadows: A Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts)  
  
**Chapter VI: Shadow Bound**   
  
_"EXPECTO…PATRONUM!" _   
Harry watched in amazement as a beautiful, silver dragon burst from the Entrance of Hogwarts, swooping towards Ginny and the group of Gryffindor students. Within moments, the handful of Dementors had been destroyed.   
The dragon continued down the sloping hills to the gates; behind it, a burst of silver patroni shot from the doors, fanning out across the front lawns of the school, attacking the remaining Dementors and Lethifold and dismissing them to the sky. At their head, the massive dragon soared upward in a graceful arc, lighting the grounds below it before dissipating into the night.   
In the lighted shadows beneath his Patronus, Draco Malfoy lowered his wand, a half-smile on his face, and marched down the stone steps. Behind him, a considerable group of Slytherins fanned out, scanning the grounds for more signs of the Dementors' army.   
Harry glanced at Hermione, who shrugged and pulled herself to her feet. They moved towards the Slytherins, all of whom were following Malfoy to the fallen group of Gryffindors. Ron was already back on his feet, racing towards Ginny, who pushed herself upwards, trying to catch her breath.   
Malfoy reached her first, extending out a hand. She took it gratefully, sending a nasty whisper through the crowd of Slytherins, and causing confusion amidst the group of Gryffindors. Ron's face grew dark, and he frowned—almost as deeply as Pansy Parkinson.   
Malfoy glared at the crowd, and the Slytherins grew silent, though many were staring at Ginny hatefully. Millicent Bulstrode looked ready to hurl any number of curses at the first person who got in her way.   
"What are you doing here?" asked Hermione weakly, staring over the group.   
"What do you think?" snarled Theodore Nott, but his tone lacked any real derision. "We're here to save your sorry…"   
"We don't _need_ saving," spat Seamus, interrupting him. "Shouldn't you all be on the other side of the fence?"   
"Hardly," replied Pansy, turning from Draco and Ginny. "Our purpose has never been to destroy the _school. _"   
"Oh, really? Then what about that little episode with the Basilisk?"   
"That was for the _mudbloods_, Granger, not _all_ the students. An entirely different cause."   
Ron's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What was that, Tolbert?"   
"What took you so long?" interrupted Harry, stepping in front of him. The Gryffindors turned to him wide eyed—as did most of the Slytherins.   
Malfoy broke off a piece of chocolate, handing it to Ginny. "We had to get organized. A few of us needed reminding about where our priorities lie." Some of the Slytherins looked at the ground. He glanced toward Ginny and lowered his voice, so much so Harry had a difficult time hearing him. "Sorry I took so long."   
Ginny smiled. "I'm just glad you came," she returned quietly. Pansy snorted, her face twisted hatefully.   
"_ALL_ of you," Ginny said a bit more loudly, glancing about the group of them. A few of the Slytherins looked at her in surprise—as well as more than a few of the Gryffindors. Ron's mouth dropped open.   
"Are we sure we haven't been attacked?" he squeaked. "Because this is about as close to my worst nightmare as we could ever get."   
"We _don't_ need to be praised by you, or anyone else," sniffed Blaise Zabini. "We didn't do this to save Gryffindor."   
"Then what did bring you out here?" asked Hermione.   
"Slytherin, of course" Malfoy replied. "Our loyalties lie with Salazar Slytherin and everything he's done—including creating this school. We won't let his noble work be destroyed by a person who doesn't understand that."   
"I beg your pardon? Bellatrix Lestrange is a Death Eater," said Ron. "As far as I'm concerned, she's about as noble as he was."   
"She doesn't represent Slytherin."   
"She doesn't even represent the Dark Lord," said Blaise.   
"Then…Voldemort really isn't behind this?" asked Harry.   
Most of the Slytherins flinched; a few stared at him evilly. Malfoy crossed his arms. "No. The Dark Lord has nothing to do with this attack."   
"This is all your _aunt's_ doing, then, eh, Malfoy?" asked Ron snidely. Ginny frowned at him.   
"Whether or not she is my aunt," Malfoy returned, glaring, "Doesn't mean we're not going to stop her if we can. Hogwarts comes first."   
"Well said, Mr. Malfoy," replied a voice behind them.   
Harry and the rest of the Gryffindors turned; Professor Dumbledore was walking towards them, glancing about the group of Slytherins with a smile. "Salazar Slytherin would be most impressed with this group. Even he ran away from his problems…you've come to face yours."   
There were only a few mumbled 'thank yous' from the group, but, surprisingly, very few sneered.   
"That was quite an impressive Patronus," Dumbledore continued. "You shall have to demonstrate it for us again in less strenuous circumstances."   
"Yes, sir."   
"A Liondragon—one of my favorites. Of course, the Patronus is only a shadow of the real thing, but if we were to have it colorized, I'm sure it would be a brilliant shade of red."   
Malfoy's pale face flushed bright pink, as did Ginny's. Most of the Slytherins grumbled a little more audibly this time, Millicent crossing her arms, Pansy shooting the Headmaster an annoyed look. Ron had his back turned and was muttering something under his breath that gave Hermione cause to kick him.   
Malfoy cleared his throat quickly and glanced about the grounds. "Everything seems in order now, sir."   
"You have taken care of the immediate concern, Mr. Malfoy, but I fear this attack is far from being in order. Mr. Potter and the rest of the Houses were handling things rather well, but I do not believe we could have held out much longer without suffering extensive casualties."   
"What might we do?"   
"See to Professor Snape…I am certain he will need your help. You can find him on the far side of the castle. And be wary…I am certain that Bellatrix has a few more tricks up her sleeve."   
"Of course, Headmaster," Malfoy replied. "We'll help in any way we can."   
"You've already done more than your share," Dumbledore said, looking over the Slytherins once more. "You have saved many lives tonight, including your own. I am grateful that Slytherin's spirit resides still within the halls of Hogwarts."   
The Slytherins were beaming at him now, even tiny Tracey Davis, who could usually be heard reviling Dumbledore's existence at least twice a day.   
"I must go check on the other professors and students," he said, turning to leave. "Please decide amongst yourselves the proper manner in which to set up your defenses." And remember," his gaze fell to the Gryffindors, Harry, Hermione, and finally, Ron. "Today is about protecting Hogwarts, and the lives of students who reside there, nothing else."   
"Yes, sir," the group chorused.   
"We could have managed," Ron spat, once he was out of earshot. "We didn't need your help."   
"Sure," said Avery. He motioned to the students scattered about the grounds, most of whom were on their knees, looking weak and tired. "Because you were doing so well before."   
"You didn't see the first wave. They had more than one professor on their knees," said Hermione, looking slightly ruffled. "There were a group that came from the lake as well."   
"That's where Snape still is," said Harry. "He might still need some additional assistance, they were a bit overwhelmed."   
Malfoy nodded. "Then the Slytherins will assist him." He gestured with his head at Millicent. "Take the group behind the castle and see if Professor Snape needs any of our help. Tell him we've cleaned up the area near the gates for now."   
"Right." Millicent motioned to the rest of the group, who trotted off behind her—after tossing a few more dirty looks at the Gryffindors.   
Malfoy watched as they disappeared around the back side of the school. "Don't think this changes anything," he said, returning his gaze to Harry. "I still hate you."   
"I hate you too," said Harry.   
"Good. Then send up sparks if you need our help."   
"Right. You do the same."   
The remaining Gryffindors glanced back and forth between them, open mouthed.   
"Come on," Harry said to them. "Professor Dumbledore might still need our assistance. If you're feeling weak, go inside the castle and try and regain your strength. I'm certain we'll need you again. Neville, can you help them?"   
Neville nodded, handing Andrew Kirke a bit of chocolate. "Right."   
The remaining Gryffindors began to move in the direction Professor Dumbledore had gone. Hermione and Ron turned to follow them, Ron pausing a moment to wait for Ginny. She stared at him blankly; Hermione sighed and grabbed him by the back of his robes, dragging him away.   
"Keep in mind what I said before," said Harry.   
"I already _did_," replied Malfoy in a bored tone. "I'm here, aren't I?"   
"I suppose. Going to settle a few wizard's debts, are we?" asked Harry.   
"Wizard's debt." Malfoy mumbled.   
Ginny glanced from one to the other confusedly. Harry half-smiled. "Take care."   
Malfoy sneered. "You know I will. Perhaps you should be more concerned about yourself. We can't have you fainting all over the place.."   
"I haven't yet," said Harry, turning. "Just you worry about keeping up those happy thoughts. I know you don't have very many. Make the good ones count." He smirked, and trotted off down the slope to join the others.   
  
Ginny watched Harry move off towards the gates, then turned to Malfoy, who was staring at Harry's retreating form with narrowed eyes. There was a slightly pink tint to his cheeks. After a moment he turned to her, his face softening.   
"Are you alright?"   
"I'm fine. A bit more chocolate, and I'll be myself again."   
"Good," he replied, looking relieved.   
"That was quite a Patronus. How did you manage it? Harry and the others told me you couldn't even muster the beginnings of one."   
"I…it…it was a matter of mastering a few of the basics," he finally mumbled.   
"Well, it was brilliant."   
Draco smiled, genuinely, this time. "Thank you."   
They stared at one another awkwardly for a moment.   
"So…what do we do now?" Ginny asked.   
"We try and save our school, I guess."   
She glanced in the direction the Gryffindors had run. He followed her gaze. "You should go and join them."   
"But…"   
"They are who you belong with. Just like they," he motioned in the direction the Slytherins had disappeared, "are where I belong. Like you said before, we can't change that."   
"Right," she said.   
"But we can change enough," he added quickly. "I can see that now."   
"You can?"   
"Yes," he said quietly. "You helped me with that. You helped me with a lot of things. Not just for tonight…but…all of it. I finally understand, now."   
"Understand?"   
"How to care about something other than myself. How to _love_ something other than myself."   
Her eyes widened.   
"I mean it, Ginny."   
She was silent for a moment, her head spinning. There was an intensity in his eyes she's never seen before. And a sincerity. She released her breath. It felt as though a weight she'd been carrying—ever since that night in the Forbidden Forest—had suddenly disappeared. "I…I love you too."   
A smile lit his face; he bent over, wrapping his arms around her. "Please, be careful. Please."   
"I will. I promise," she whispered softly, pulling close to him.   
A strangled yelp came from behind them, followed by the sounds of someone being thrown to the ground. Hermione's voice rose about the din. ("Honestly! Stop being such a git!")   
"I guess I better go," he said, releasing her. "Don't do anything rash. I know you well enough by now…."   
"Yes, you do. But so do I—no throwing yourself at any Dementors!"   
"I won't." He clipped her lightly under the chin. "You're really something, Ginny Weasley. Do you know that?"   
"I do now."   
He started forward, towards the back side of the school.   
"Draco?"   
"Yes?" he turned, pausing.   
"Is there any chance I can find out what your pleasant thought was?"   
He smirked, his face once again flushing. "It…hasn't really happened yet. When…and if…it does, I'll let you know, I promise."   
She watched his silver-blond head disappear around the corner.   
_Please…please don't let anything happen to him…_   
  
Draco reached the lakeshore, where the Slytherins were already making use of their patroni. It was as Potter and Granger had mentioned; there were many more Dementors in this area than in the front of the castle. The Hogsmeades' wizards who'd been tending to them looked worn and weary, but the reinforcement of Patroni had the oncoming Dementors falling by the dozens and fading into the night.   
Professor Snape was bending over by the lakeside, allowing Millicent and Blaise Zabini to fend off a rather close group of Lethifold. He was drenched in sweat, his dark hair hanging limply by his face.   
"Professor…"   
The Potions Master turned. Draco was surprised to see that he looked tired…and weak. "Draco. I believe I told you and the other Slytherins to remain inside your dormitory."   
"Yes sir," Draco said. "But it seemed that Potter had other ideas, and we couldn't let him upstage us this time."   
The professor smiled slightly. "I suppose not. How are they fairing above?"   
"Much better sir. Most of the Dementor army had been defeated before we arrived, but we took care of the rest. It seems they're nearly gone."   
Professor Snape looked unconvinced. "And the Headmaster and the others?"   
"There have been no casualties so far," said Draco slowly. "We helped prevent a few of the students from being attacked, however."   
"And what, might I ask, brought you out here? It was certainly not a love of the others students—or was it?"   
Draco shrugged casually, trying to remain nonchalant, as though his heart wasn't beating ten times its normal pace. Ginny's face flashed through his mind, smiling at him. "It was a…a desire to protect Hogwarts, sir. Whether we believe in all its precepts now is irrelevant. Without the school, we cannot be Slytherins."   
"Quite right," said Snape, straightening. "More so than you can even begin to fathom."   
Draco stared at him, puzzled.   
"DRACO!" Pansy shrieked.   
He turned to where she was pointing. Across the lake, emerging from the wooded path that lead to the train platform, was another line of Dementors. They wafted onto the roiling waters.   
"Impossible," Snape whispered, watching the line with wide eyes. "There are more there than in the first wave. She can't have this many. Not even Azkaban itself has such a host. It is as though every Dementor in existence is attacking Hogwarts tonight."   
"You don't know my aunt very well," Draco snarled. "Better safe than sorry."   
"Should we send up sparks?" asked Tracey Davies.   
Draco shook his head. "Not yet. We should be able to take care of these on our own." He raised his wand. "Millicent, Avery, Nott!"   
The rest of the Slytherins turned to where he was pointing, and moved to the lakeshore, raising their wands. The Dementors drew closer; Draco waited, his wand pointed at the oncoming line. The air around them turned bitterly cold; a few of the Hogsmeade wizards backed away, their breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Professor Snape stood strong among the others, but his face was set in a grimace, as though he was struggling to maintain his strength.   
The Dementors were almost halfway across the lake, tucked into the shadows of the cliff side. Their proximity had some of the younger Slytherins shaking.   
They emerged from beneath the overhang.   
"NOW!" Draco roared. _"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _   
Draco's Dragon Patronus shot forward, speeding towards the line. The rest of the Patroni, including Millicent's scraggly looking cat and Pansy's two-tailed Crup, fanned out behind it, forming an army of silver creatures. They slammed into the wave of Dementors, the Dragon striking through the heart of the line, sending ten of the oncoming group into the sky. The rest of the Patroni dismissed the remainder; a few, including Draco's, circled back for two more attacks before fading into the night. The few creatures that lingered were quickly banished by the remaining adults.   
Snape watched in amazement as the Slytherins lowered their wands, raising a cheer. He turned to Draco. "You managed a Patronus."   
"Yes sir,"   
"A rather powerful one as well, Draco. You must have quite an impressive thought."   
"Y-yes, sir," Draco stuttered, blushing.   
"Professor Snape, sir!" called a gruff voice. Hagrid emerged out of the darkness, holding a rather foppish looking pink umbrella. "Seems most o' the Dementors have moved off to the far side o' the castle. That last line o' them that came 'cross the lake, that was the last of them on the shoreside 'ccording to the wizards who're still in Hogsmeade."   
Snape nodded. "We'll leave a guard here, then…I'll tell the other Hogsmeades wizards to maintain a watch and send up a signal should they need us." He turned to Draco. "Head up to the back of the castle. There are still Dementors attacking from near the Forbidden Forest and alongside the Quidditch Pitch. Are the front gates being defended?"   
"Yes sir, Potter and his group are up there now with Dumbledore and a few of the other professors. That area was clear as per a moment ago."   
Instead of looking relieved, the Potions Master grew perplexed. "Odd."   
"Sir?"   
"We should hurry. I am certain they will need our help."   
Draco nodded, and motioned to the other Slytherins to make their way up the slope, towards the forest. Snape headed down the shore, towards a few of the remaining adults.   
"'S nice dragon you got there as your Patronus, Malfoy," Hagrid said, moving up alongside him. "Chinese Fireball, I'd wager…twould be all red, if'd were in color. _Weasley_ red."   
Draco grimaced. "Does the entire bloody world know?"   
"On'y those of us with eyes and a bit o' common sense."   
"Don't you need to be speaking with the other wizards?"   
Hagrid grinned beneath his grizzly beard. "I suppose so." He waved his flowery umbrella back at Draco, who rolled his eyes.   
_He better not think this means I have to be nice to him. _   
"Oh, and Malfoy…you don' hafta worry 'bout Grawpy no more. Unless o' course you decide you're gonna be mean ta Ginny, then ya might have a bit o' a problem…or if ya go sneakin' off into the Forbidden Forest again." Hagrid eyed him slyly. "On second thought ya might just stay outta the way fer the time bein'."   
"_Right. _" Draco sneered at his retreating form.   
"Draco?" Pansy trotted up to him.   
"Come on…we're going up along the far side, to the Pitch."   
  
Harry moved up alongside Professor Dumbledore, who was carefully scanning the gates. No more Dementors had emerged from the surrounding woodlands, but there was still a cold, clammy feeling and an unshakeable tinge of malaise hovering throughout the grounds.   
"Do you think its almost over, Professor?"   
Dumbledore responded without looking at him. "As I said to Mr. Malfoy, I sincerely doubt it, Harry. What concerns me is that Bellatrix's methods have been relatively conventional so far, and that is unlike her."   
"She's always seemed conventional to me," replied Harry rather sharply. "She kills, uses the Cruciatus Curse, and supports the Dark Lord. Right on par for a Death Eater."   
"Bellatrix is mad," said Dumbledore softly "Whereas other Death Eaters might pause to think of consequences, as they did in the Ministry of Magic almost a year ago, she will not. Be wary. With someone like her you cannot be sure what to expect."   
A great roar rose from the lake; Harry and the other students turned, then raced over to the cliff side to gaze at the scene below them. A solid line of Dementors were floating across the waters, near the cliff's edge, wafting towards the gently sloping grounds. The Slytherins moved shoulder to shoulder alongside the Hogsmeade wizards, their wands raised. After a few more moments, when the line was clear of the cliffs, Draco Malfoy let loose a shout, and dozens of glittering Patroni burst from the wands of the students, speeding towards the onslaught. Within seconds, the group was destroyed.   
Malfoy's immense dragon headed the attack, swooping around and heading back for two more turns before rising above the castle, lighting the grounds around them. Harry shook his head in wonder.   
_To think he could go from producing nothing to THAT…_   
"Love really is an incredible power, is it not?" said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling, as he watched the Dragon fade into the night. On the side of the lake near the village, the stars were beginning to emerge.   
"Yes. But…"   
"What is it, Harry?"   
"Do you really think it is possible?"   
Dumbledore glanced over at him. "Anything is possible, Harry. I'm sure you've come to realize that."   
"But…"   
"Whatever the motivation may be, the emotions cannot be questioned. Don't try and justify it. There are few things we can have absolute trust of in this world, but the heart—coupled with our own intuition—is most certainly one of them."   
Harry shook his head, gazing at where the Dragon had been. After seeing what he'd seen tonight, he supposed, anything _was_ possible.   
"Now," said Dumbledore, "How are all of your group fairing?"   
The majority appeared unscathed, although Hermione was still trembling and Ginny looked extremely pale—save a slightly pink tint to her cheeks as she watched Malfoy turn from the lake.   
"I'm fine," she said, color flooding her face as she caught him eyeing her. "I just need a bit more chocolate." She dug into her robes and pulled out some of what Malfoy had given her. Harry turned back to the Headmaster. "I think we're alright, Professor."   
"The Slytherins seem to be doing rather well," noted Ron disgustedly. They were moving away from the lake now, to the far side of the Quidditch Pitch.   
"I would expect no less," said Dumbledore, smiling. "Their strength lies in their strength, after all. Salazar Slytherin was most noted for his tenacity, and his power. His spells were almost always the most effective. You could ask for no better warrior."   
Ron's face twisted into a grimace.   
"But," continued the Headmaster, "he wasn't a leader. That was more suited for his friend, and later rival, Godric Gryffindor. In his case, he wasn't the most powerful, but he always had the courage to continue to fight, even until the very end. And that is what saved him. And what made him great.   
"Of course, those traits are only generalities, and do not always adequately describe the Houses. There are particular members of each House, I am absolutely certain, that possess more than one of the other Houses' signature characteristics," he glanced from Harry, to Hermione, and to Ron as he said this. "We are a united school, after all. One does not graduate Slytherin or Gryffindor. One graduates _Hogwarts. _"   
"I am rather glad the Slytherins remembered that," said Hermione.   
He smiled at her.   
Behind them, someone screamed.   
Dumbledore and the rest whirled about; near the far corners of the gates, dark swirls were emerging through the bars, darting swiftly towards the gathered groups. The crowd split apart chaotically, students bumping into one another, knocking each other over and scrambling to get aside.   
Professor Lynch was closest to the swarm; he raced forward, lifting his wand.   
"_EXPECTO—_"   
One of the girls, a Ravenclaw, stumbled.   
The Lethifold hovered over her. Professor Lynch abandoned his spell and slid underneath it, shoving her out of the way.   
"MATHIAS!" screamed Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore raised his wand, shouting, but Harry already knew it was too late.   
The Shroud enfolded the teacher, wringing itself into a tight line, then unfolding. There was no trace of Professor Lynch left on the ground.   
Hermione covered her eyes, burying her face in Ron's shoulder. He patted her softly, trying not to look sick. A few of the other students had to turn away. Dumbledore's Phoenix Patronus reached the Shroud, dissolving it and the rest of the swarm.   
"Mathias…" sobbed Professor McGonagall, "oh, Albus…"   
"Minerva…" said Dumbledore, glancing about. Most of the students wore horrified expressions. "Head up to the castle, please, and do a quick check of the area around it. Make sure you talk to Argus to see if any of the Dementor or the Lethifold have gotten inside. Then, set up a perimeter of defense. Tell him this attack is far from over. We've been fairly well prepared, but we want to be certain."   
Professor McGonagall stared at him a moment, then looked to the students, seeming to notice for the first time that the majority of them were sobbing. She gathered herself as best she could. "Right. Of course, Albus."   
"Take Professor Flitwick and Madam Sprout with you—they seem a little peaked. And a few of the students—only those who appear tired. Give them as much chocolate as you can. If they are weak, send them inside."   
She nodded again, and hurried off.   
"Harry, are you and the others alright?" he asked, turning to them.   
Harry glanced around at the Gryffindors. Most of them were crying; those who weren't were pale-faced and trembling.   
_They've never seen a death before…_ "How…how horrible," Hermione cried softly. Harry placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned to him. "How could you watch…how did you do it, Harry? With Cedric…or Sirius…"   
"I wouldn't ask for it," he said. "But you sometimes you have no choice. You have to."   
"You must," said Dumbledore. For the first time since Harry and the others had joined him, he looked weary. "It does no good to look away. Face your fears. You will have to eventually…even if we triumph tonight."   
Harry frowned. _I've survived these kinds of dangers. Most of the others haven't even dreamed of something like this. I'd forgotten about that. _   
Hermione sniffled. "I just want this to be over."   
"So do I."   
The air around them had become quite still. The stars were beginning to brighten down the twisting path to Hogsmeade. Across the lake, the moon had returned, lighting the far sides of the grounds near the cliff face. There was a tinge of warmth to the breeze that blew across their faces.   
"Its over," said Ron. "You can't feel the cold anymore."   
Harry frowned. "I don't like this."   
Professor Dumbledore paused, his head tilted, as though listening to the wind.   
Hermione shook her head, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "It would be unlike Bellatrix to give up so quickly." Harry nodded, the grip on his wand tightening.   
"Do you think she's planning something, Professor?" he asked.   
"How could she?" asked Ron. "Her army's been defeated."   
Dumbledore remained silent a moment longer, glancing once more towards the gates, then turned to them. "Don't be so hasty, Mr. Weasley. What we've seen tonight has been part of a rather brilliant strategy. First, she separated the Professors by sending attacks from two different locations. The Dementors across the lake took longer, allowing those of us at the gates to defeat our enemies before the others had a chance to take on theirs. And yet they could not abandon their positions to help us; however, we have had every opportunity to assist them once our task was complete.   
"The second wave was confined to the lake, which, if the students had not been here—particularly the Slytherins…"   
Ron grimaced and mumbled something rather harshly under his breath.   
"Particularly the Slytherins," continued to Dumbledore, eyeing him and causing him to go red, "we would most certainly have gone to the lake in an effort to defeat them. Leaving the front gates _unprotected. _"   
"Which means," Harry finished, "she's going to attack again…in a way that would allow her to get inside the castle swiftly."   
"Bella's intent has been to destroy the castle from the start," said Dumbledore sadly. "Every speck of every stone. It would not matter to her how much of her army was sacrificed. And with the size and intricacy of the castle corridors, it would be impossible for us to stop them, if even a few Dementors got inside. Our defenses had to be focused out here…only a few were left to defend the inside of the school."   
"But things _haven't_ gone the way she's planned," said Ginny. "Why won't she just give up now? Her plan has failed!"   
"Until there are no more Dementors or Lethifold left," said Dumbledore, "she has not failed. Any attempt to get to me, Harry, or any of you will not be considered a failure. And she has already succeeded in one aspect. She has taken a life tonight."   
The Gryffindors lowered their heads; Hermione looked on the verge of tears.   
"Professor Dumbledore?" Neville was marching towards them, along with the remainder of the Gryffindors. Luna Lovegood and her band of Ravenclaws were with them.   
"The cliff face on the far side of the castle is clear of Dementors, Professor," she said, tucking her wand behind her ear. "And I believe they have been pushed back on the far side." She glanced at their somber faces. "What's wrong?"   
"Nothing to concern yourself about right now, Miss Lovegood. That is excellent news. Thank you all. Now, if you would gather a few of your stronger members—only those who can handle a Patronus with ease—to remain behind with us; the rest of you may follow Miss Patil and join Professor McGonagall around the outside of the castle. Not one Dementor is to get past you, is that understood?"   
"Yes, sir," replied Padma, looking tired. Her usually perfect plait was slightly unkempt.   
Luna plucked her wand from her hair. She motioned for a few of the more energetic looking Ravenclaw students to come join her, then turned. "Most of the Ravenclaws can perform Patroni efficiently, sir, but I think that these few been less affected than most. Of course, they might also be long lost members of the Carpathian Stonewall League…"   
"Right-o," replied Terry Boot, raising his wand.   
"The _what? _" cried Hermione, still sniffling. "I've never heard of that."   
"The Carpathian Stonewall League," said Professor Dumbledore pleasantly. "They were a family of farmers in lower Carpathia who learned to countereffect the Dementors' power—there were rather a few of them running about in lower Carpathia—and from hence, their descendents have a natural ability to withstand the Dementors' attacks. Of course, they are few and far between now. And since they were relatively misunderstood, there was little use in making mention of them in history books."   
Hermione was staring at him openmouthed. Harry raised an eyebrow. Dumbledore, despite having stood at the head of the line of professors, didn't appear weary at all. At least, not wearied from battling Dementors.   
"In any case, we shall need a large group to patrol the front side of the castle. Keep watch to the gates, and send out a signal, should you need it, immediately."   
Harry, Luna, and the rest nodded.   
"And be prepared," he said authoritatively, "for _anything. _"   
  
Draco turned past the far side of the Pitch, keeping a watchful eye out for moving shapes. They had already come upon three misguided Lethifold, and had it not been for the strength of their numbers, more than one student would have been killed.   
"The Pitch seems clear," said Crabbe, trotting over to him. The hill on which Hogwarts stood overshadowed the stadium on its left side; on its right, there was a good forty feet to the start of the Forbidden Forest.   
"What about the back side of the castle?"   
"There haven't been any more Dementors spotted across the lake," Crabbe grunted. "If they're coming, they're coming from the North side, near the gates."   
Overhead, the stars were starting to appear. A warm breeze was blowing across the lakeshore, and the moon had re-emerged over Hogsmeade, casting eerie shadows across the face of the castle and the Pitch.   
"Is it over?" whispered Pansy, joining them.   
Draco shook his head. "I don't know."   
"Keep your guard up," said Professor Snape, moving towards them. "This is altogether unusual. Lestrange has employed quite a mass of Dementors…I do not believe that she would be so easily deterred by a few simple setbacks."   
"Maybe she's realized we're too powerful," said Pansy.   
"No," said Draco forcefully. "She's lost her ability to reason. All she cares about is destroying Hogwarts, and she'll do that any way she can."   
"I am going to see how the Headmaster is fairing," Snape said. "Keep an eye out here; Hagrid and the other wizards are still patrolling the lakeshore, you can call them if you need them."   
He started up the sloping grounds towards the gates.   
"We'll check the back side of the Pitch once more," said Crabbe, motioning to Goyle and a few of the others.   
Pansy watched as they disappeared into the darkness. Draco scanned the forest, feeling slightly uncomfortable.   
_None of this seems right…_   
"Was all of it a lie?" Pansy asked suddenly.   
"What?" Draco said, almost dropping his wand. "What do you mean?"   
"The Yule Ball, classes…all those years sitting together in the Dining Hall…was it all a lie?"   
Draco looked at her anxiously. "Pansy, I hardly think this is the time…"   
"_Was it?! _"   
"No…not exactly! It just…felt right at the time…"   
She crossed her arms. "And now?"   
"Its not the same, anymore," Draco said, staring her in the face. "Things have changed."   
"And what are you going to do, Draco? Become buddies with her brothers? Are you going to spend holidays at the Weasley shack? Will you wear the Weasley sweater? Or better yet, you can take her _and_ her family to visit Malfoy Manor on summer break. Your mother would _love_ that."   
"I don't know how it will work," he snarled. "But it feels right—it _IS_ right. And whatever I, or my parents, or her family, might think of it…"   
"You'll find a way," taunted Pansy in a simpering voice. "It'll work out for the best, because its _love_."   
"I can't apologize or make excuses for it, Pansy. I won't."   
"Are you going to give up everything you believe, then? You can't hate the mudbloods, or the Weasleys, and be with her too."   
"We will deal with that when the time comes," he said softly. "I cannot change who I am overnight, and neither can she. But I have faith…"   
"_Bad_ faith."   
He narrowed his eyes. "Whatever we might believe, the Slytherins, despite this whole mess, are out here tonight. That means we are capable of doing greater things than taunting people and hurting mudbloods. If none of the rest of this makes sense, than at least remember _that_."   
"That still doesn't justify your…" From somewhere above them, a sharp, high pitched shriek filled the air, followed by dozens of shouts and more screams.   
A bitterly cold wind burst through the trees of the Forbidden Forest, nearly knocking Draco and Pansy off their feet.   
Draco raised his hand to his face, watching in horror as the shadows within the forest began to move, slithering out beneath the treetops and floating onto the lawns in a silent, eerie march.   
Scores of Dementors and Lethifold were emerging onto the grasses of the school.   
"SLYTHERINS!"   
The students came forward from behind the pitch and beyond the back side of the castle, staring in amazement at the throngs of creatures wafting out of the forest.  
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Draco cried. His Dragon soared forward, attacking the creatures as they slowly floated down towards the field. The line of Slytherins released their patroni; dozens of silver shadows whisked the Dementors away.   
High above them, red and gold sparks flew to the heavens. There was a mass of chaotic screaming and the sounds of hundreds of footfalls thundering across the ground.   
_Ginny…_   
"DRACO!" shouted Millicent above the din. More and more Dementors were emerging. "The castle!"   
A shower of green and silver sparks arced from the North side, over the slopes.   
"Snape needs us," Draco murmured. "Fall back!"   
"We can't just leave this!" screeched Pansy. "If they get past us, they can get inside!"   
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"   
A large hippogriff galloped across the lawns, slamming into the Dementors and Lethifold head on.   
"Go on!" yelled Hagrid, as the Hogsmeade wizards made their way across the grounds. He was guiding the hippogriff with his flowery umbrella. "Ta lake's all clear, there are a few watchin' it, we can handle the rest o'er here! Dumbledore needs yer help, they're getting' hit hard on the far side!"   
Draco nodded. "Half of you remain here and _make sure_ they don't get past you! Those of you who feel strong enough, come with me!"   
He started up the steeply sloping ground, followed by Millicent, Pansy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few others. Clawing at the ground, he pulled himself up as fast as he could, trying to drown out the screams of the nearby students, and praying it wasn't too late.   
  
The grounds near the forest were eerily quiet. Ginny scanned the tree line once more.   
Harry was nearby, watching the trees intently, his wand raised and ready. It was easy to see why Dumbledore had so much faith in him. He hadn't let down his guard once the whole evening, and he'd faced every onslaught with a courage Ginny could only ever hope to muster.   
Hermione was beside him; she whispered something to him and he tilted his head to listen, his eyes never leaving the edge of the forest.   
"Ginny?"   
Ron moved over to her, looking slightly concerned. "Are you feeling alright?"   
She nodded, smiling. "I'm fine. Much better now."   
He looked unconvinced, but didn't say anything.   
"Harry really is meant to do this, isn't he? I mean, lead the fight?"   
Ron followed her gaze, frowning slightly as Harry smiled at whatever Hermione had made mention of. "Yeah, I guess so. I just hope he doesn't go too far."   
"Too far?"   
"He's determined to see Voldemort destroyed. Whatever the cost. And you can't beat Harry for determination."   
Dumbledore's words whirled about in her mind. _There are particular members of each House, I am absolutely certain, that possess more than one of the other Houses' signature characteristics…_   
Her eyes drifted over to the area near the Pitch, just hidden beneath the sloping grounds. Her heart skipped a beat.   
_I mean it, Ginny…_   
Ron's face twisted. "I…I'm sure he's f-fine…" he garbled.   
She smiled softly. "You don't have to pretend you're concerned, Ron. I'll understand."   
"I'm concerned," he said defensively, "just…not about Malfoy. I want to make sure you're going to be alright."   
"I'll be fine. We'll find a way to work this out. All of us."   
Ron frowned. "_Malfoy_. Mum an Dad are gonna love this. Not to mention what Fred and George are going to do. You'll be lucky if he survives getting through the door."   
She glared at him.   
Professor Snape trotted up the hill, appearing a bit more sallow than he normally was. He moved slowly towards the Headmaster.   
"Severus," said Dumbledore, as Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione moved towards him. "Are you feeling alright?"   
"I will be quite alright, sir," Snape said. "I wanted to see how everything was."   
"For now, everything is quiet," Dumbledore said, gazing about the trees. "For now. What about below us?"   
"We managed to eliminate the threat from the lake, and the rest of the wizards—and students—are scouting out the areas around the pitch. I believe we've taken care of them."   
"That is good news. You haven't suffered any casualties?"   
"No, sir. And you?"   
"Just one."   
Snape's eyes widened. "Who?"   
"I'm afraid we've lost Mathias, Severus."   
"I…I'm sorry, Headmaster," Snape replied, looking genuinely sad. Ginny was surprised, considering how often he'd dismissed Professor Lynch's Dark Arts teachings.   
"Can you spare a few of your students, Severus? I am afraid we might need them here."   
"Of course."   
He turned back towards the hill, and paused. A slight rustle was coming from within the depths of the forest. Ginny, Harry, Hermione, and Ron turned.   
A incredible blast of bitter air surged through the grounds, knocking half the students off their feet.   
Dumbledore immediately raced to the line of patrolling professors, his wand raised. There was no hint of amusement or complacency in his face. The look he wore was more terrifying than Ginny had ever seen.   
"FALL BACK!" he shouted.   
The students and teachers scrambled to get behind him, pulling themselves off the ground.   
A swarm of dark shadows shot from the trees.   
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" shouted Harry. His stag darted forward, racing to catch the Lethifold as they swam towards the panicking students.   
Ron, Hermione, and Luna followed suit, their own patroni racing to meet the dangerously swift Living Shrouds as they sped towards the castle.   
"Ginny!" Ron cried. He was being shoved aside by a mass of students. "GINNY!"   
Ginny turned. Behind her, the trees themselves seemed to be moving beyond their borders.   
Someone shrieked.   
A wave of Dementors emerged into the moonlit scene, surging forward. Ginny felt the familiar cold wash through her, heard once more the sultry voice of Tom Riddle playing through her mind, as she had earlier this evening…   
_You are mine…you belong to me…_   
She fell to her knees.   
"GINNY!"   
"_Expecto Patronum. _" A strong pair of arms was pulling her to her feet. She glanced up, catching a mass of bushy hair and a glimmering silver Prefects badge.   
"Come on," Hermione cried, yanking her hand. "This way!"   
Some of the Professors who'd gone into the castle earlier were running towards them, wands raised, releasing Patroni. Hermione's silver otter danced its way through a few more Living Shrouds and dissipated.   
"PROFESSOR!" Harry shouted over the din. "We need more help!"   
Dumbledore, fighting furiously on the front lines, nodded.   
"NEVILLE!" Harry cried, aiming his Patronus at the oncoming Dementors.   
Neville nodded, and raised his wand. "_Relashio! _" A flurry of red and gold sparks showered the grounds.   
Snape was somewhere near the slope side. "They're coming from below us as well!"   
"How many, Severus?" cried Professor McGonagall, coming to join him.   
"I'm not certain!" he shouted. "Too many to count!"   
"We need them up here! The castle!"   
Ginny turned. A small, but solid, group of Lethifold were heading for the front doors. "_Expecto Patronum!" _   
Her glittering fox danced forward, towards the Living Shrouds. A few whipped to the sky; Ron moved up beside her, aiming his own Patronus behind hers, taking care of the rest.   
"LOOK!" someone screamed.   
From the far side, on the opposite ends of the gates, more Dementors were emerging from the path to Hogsmeade.   
"MOVE!" cried Harry. Luna motioned for the Ravenclaws to start forward. From their position near the face of the cliffs, the Hufflepuffs emerged, heading for the throng of creatures.   
"LUNA!" Neville shrieked.   
She turned; a Dementor was hovering over her.   
"_Expecto Patronum_!" she managed, her loon crashing into the creature. She tumbled to the ground. Neville ran towards her, fighting off more of the Dementors with his toad. He grasped her arm, pulling her to her feet, and headed towards the castle.   
The Hufflepuffs were releasing their patroni in a frenzy of hurried attacks.   
"HARRY!"   
Ginny turned; there were more Dementors slithering past the gates, heading swiftly for the Entrance doors. Harry whirled about, guiding his stag around. "_Expecto Patronum! _"   
The animal crashed into the Dementors, whipping them to the sky. Harry turned back, looking frantically about.   
All around her, the students were starting to panic, unable to hold off the massive swarms of Dementors and Lethifold that kept emerging from the trees. Harry, Hermione and Ron were drenched in sweat, darting about here and there, trying to prevent Dementors from breaking through the front lines.   
Professor Snape fell to his knees. Ginny turned around as a group of Lethifold moved towards him. "_Expecto Patronum! _"   
Her Patronus tore through the Living Shrouds. Snape glanced over at her.   
"Thank you, Miss Weasley." He stood slowly, ignoring her extended hand, and raised his wand. "_Relashio. _" A flurry of silver and green sparks shot from it. "I believe we could use Mr. Malfoy's help."   
A shadow of a smile flitted across her face. "Yes, sir."   
In front of her, the grounds were a mass of chaotic students and swarming creatures. Dumbledore was battling with them furiously, the other professors trying their best to maintain position as the crowd of creatures surged forward. On the far side, a few of the Hufflepuffs were crying—some were on their knees.   
"Come along, Miss Weasley," the Potions Master said. "We cannot allow them inside the castle."   
She nodded, and rushed after him, into the fray.   
  
Harry swerved around, directing his stag towards the fallen Hufflepuffs. Ernie Macmillan and many of the others were still on their feet, but a few of their numbers were missing—and more than one Dementor had pushed through their group.   
_Please…don't let it have been too many…_   
A swarm of silver and green sparks showered overhead; Snape was signaling the Slytherins.   
"HARRY!" Hermione shouted from the far side. "THE CASTLE!"   
He turned to where she was pointing. Some of the Dementors had broken free of Professor Dumbledore's assault, and were heading towards a rather determined looking Padma and her small group of weary Ravenclaws.   
Harry mustered up his energy, and raced towards them. "_Expecto Patronum! _'   
The stag shimmered forth once more, heading for the group. It couldn't take out as many as before, but still managed to cut a hefty swath through the creatures.   
Padma and the rest of the Ravenclaws dismissed the rest.   
More students were running than fighting, now. Ginny stood alongside Professor Snape, her Patronus taking out the now thinning lines of Lethifold that floated on the outskirts of the grounds.   
Dumbledore and the Professors had cut back the number of Dementors significantly, but more were still coming. He watched as Professor McGonagall bent over, trying to catch her breath.   
"There are too many," Hermione panted, coming up alongside him. "We'll never be able to stop them all."   
A group floated down the path towards them. A large gathering…and for some reason, it was strange…the leading Dementor…   
For the first time that evening, Harry felt that familiar chill…he heard the voices of his parents…of Cedric screaming…saw Hermione collapsing…saw Sirius…falling through the veil…   
_Sirius…_   
"_EXPECTO PATRONUM! _"   
Other voices echoed the first.   
"Harry! HARRY!"   
Hermione was shouting at him. He opened his eyes.   
"He's getting tired," Ron said. He and Ginny were bending over him; Hermione was on her knees, panting.   
"What happened?"   
"There were…more than I could count…" said Hermione, breathing heavily. Her face was terribly pale. "Ron, Neville and Ginny took care of most of them, but the rest scattered…and you…you…   
"You're trying to do too much, Harry. You need to rest," said Ginny.   
Ron fished in his pocket, pulling out some half-melted chocolate. "Eat this."   
"I'm fine," he said, sitting up.   
"You're _not_ fine," Hermione said shakily.   
Ron extended his hand. "Eat the chocolate."   
Harry frowned, but took the chocolate and stuffed it in his mouth. Immediately, he felt better. The familiar warmth spread through him, and the voices began to fade from his mind. Ron handed another handful to Hermione, who took it gratefully.   
He glanced around once more. Half of the students were on their knees, but the Dementors were no longer in formation; the majority were spread out, like they had been after the first attack.   
But more than a few were drawing dangerously close to Hogwarts.   
"The school…"   
Dumbledore and his group were pinioned to the edges of the forest, fighting the creatures that were still coming. Harry rose to his feet. Padma Patil had her beautiful peacock attacking an oncoming group of creatures, but even she, along with the rest of the students gathered behind her, were beginning to falter.   
"Come on," he said.   
Professor McGonagall glanced behind her helplessly, trying to find a way to back out towards the castle doors. Harry and the others started to run towards the Ravenclaws, but the Hufflepuffs were shouting from the far end of the grounds. More Dementors were slicing through their lines, and many of the students were retreating, trying to move out of the way.   
"Harry!" Ernie Macmillan cried.   
Harry called forth his Patronus, giving the Hufflepuffs a chance to escape. He bent over, trying to catch his breath.   
Padma screamed.   
Lethifold were swarming near the front doors. The Ravenclaws had dodged out of the way, many of them trying to avoid the grasp of the Shrouds, which bolted after them mercilessly.   
Hermione turned her head; Ginny was watching with horrified eyes.   
"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!" _   
The gigantic dragon Patronus surged forward, annihilating the Lethifold, then turned the corner, towards the retreating Hufflepuffs.   
Malfoy's silver-blond head emerged over the top of the ridge, followed by more than a dozen of the Slytherins. They aimed their patroni at the edges of the Forest, cutting large swaths through the thinning groups of Dementors.   
Ginny shrieked in excitement, clutching at Ron's arm, who, surprisingly, looked rather relieved.   
"Malfoy!" Harry shouted. "THE DOORS!"   
Malfoy turned to him, one eyebrow raised, but moved towards the doors quickly. Padma and her group made way for them, retreating into the Entrance hall. The rest of the Slytherins hurried over to Professor Snape, setting their Patronus spells to work on the remaining Dementors.   
Harry, Hermione and the rest moved over to where the Hufflepuffs were still pulling back, mustering their Patroni with a surge of energy. The appearance of the Slytherins seemed to have revived many of the students; most were turning back to face the creatures head on.   
"Who would ever have thought?" murmured Hermione.   
"_I_ did," said Ginny cheerfully, using her Patronus to banish a few more Dementors.   
"I suppose you did," Hermione replied with a small smile.   
The Dementors were growing exceedingly thin, thanks to the revived Patroni of the Slytherins. Many of the Professors seemed to be growing stronger; Harry caught sight of a few he hadn't noticed before coming up the ridge. Professor Sinistra looked weary but triumphant.   
"The lakeshore is clear," he said to Dumbledore, who had moved within their earshot. "We received a signal from the wizards in Hogsmeade…no more Dementors…and the path outside the village is useable again. They've sent off posts to the Ministry."   
"Excellent," murmured the Headmaster. "It seems the owls have returned as well."   
Harry glanced up. Shadowed dimly by the light of the moon, pecks of owls were descending towards the school, each laden with packages and letters.   
Hermione clapped her hands in delight. "The spells have been re-altered."   
"The Ministry wizards will be arriving soon."   
Ron turned to them, his eyes widening. "Then it really is almost over."   
The doors to the school flung open. A young Slytherin with dark brown braids flew out, racing towards Draco and the students nearest the entrance.   
She pulled at his robes. "You won't believe…you won't…"   
An enormous explosion rocked the grounds; Harry tumbled to the ground, along with most of the other students. Overhead, the Hogwarts gates were flying through the air, arcing over the school and crashing somewhere on its opposite side.   
A huge throng of Dementors rushed up the path. In front of them, the grasses on the front lawns burst into flames.   
The students screamed, scrambling out of their way. Harry jumped to his feet, aiming his wand at the crowd.   
Dozens of voices cried out with him.   
"_EXPECTO PATRONUM!!! _"   
The glittering Patroni launched towards the group; smashing into it simultaneously. Most of the Dementors faltered, their dim forms propelled upwards into the sky. A few remained at the head, dashing towards the front Entrance, where Malfoy and his small group of Slytherins waited confidently.   
Harry joined the others as they tried to extinguish the fires that were quickly spreading about the grounds. Dumbledore's powerful voice could be heard above the din; he was trying to make his way towards the doors. There was a look on his face Harry had only seen one other time—when he burst into the Ministry corridors to face the Death Eaters. He glanced over at the Dementors hurrying towards Malfoy.   
Only a few of them remained; the other Slytherins were wiping them out—Padma and her group were smiling just beyond the doors—the students were cheering—   
Malfoy raised his wand. "_Expecto Patronum. _"   
His dragon shot towards the Dementor at the head of the pack—and dissolved.   
The other Dementors had been banished. The Professors had started to raise a cheer, the other Slytherins had moved forward to help them with the few creatures scattered randomly about the grounds. No one else noticed the lone Dementor facing Malfoy—   
Harry watched in confusion. _Why…_   
A burst of green light enveloped Malfoy, he fell to his knees, his face contorted, his body twisted at a horrid angle…   
The Dementor was removing its hood…   
Malfoy collapsed to the ground.   
Dumbledore was racing towards him, wand raised.   
Malfoy screamed as another spell hit him, his body arcing upward. Silence settled on the crowd as the students whipped about, trying to see what was going on.   
"DRACO!" Ginny shrieked.   
_How was a Dementor…_ Harry stared beyond the folds of the hood.   
There was a FACE.   
"Bloody _Hell…_" Harry cried, and mustering all of his remaining energy, raced towards the doors.   
  
"Expecto Patronum!" Draco shouted, his large silvery dragon bursting from his wand tip. It flew straight at the Dementor.   
And disappeared.   
Draco started; the Dementor had simply waved its hand, and his Patronus had dissolved into nothing.   
_Impossible…_   
The Dementor pointed its long finger at Draco…the hood shifted, as though it were trying to speak.   
Not a finger…a wand…   
There was a burst of green and silver light.   
A pain unlike anything Draco had ever felt before coursed through his body; he was dimly aware of falling to the ground, his head bending down at an odd angle to touch his back…his eyes were opened as wide as they could go, the stars above him blurring into thick foggy swirls…   
There was a release, and he collapsed upon the ground, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. Every single part of his body ached. He gathered the strength to lift his head, waves of sharp, piercing pain shuddering through him.   
The Dementor hovered above, its wand pointed towards him.   
"Traitor…"   
The creature raised a hand to its hood, pushing back the cowl. Bellatrix Lestrange peered out beneath the folds, her face twisted in dark, menacing hatred. Around her, her Dementor army was disappearing into the night, and by the gates, the Professors were starting to raise a cheer.   
"This was your fault, _Draco_," she spat, her wand pointed at his face. "Kreacher watched you sneak past my rooms…watched as you listened to our conversation. You informed Dumbledore of my coming. You helped protect the school. _YOU-ARE-A- TRAITOR! CRUCIO!" _   
Draco shrieked as another wave of pain flashed through him, his body twisting behind him. There was a sound around him…a high pitched shriek which consumed everything, drowning out the sounds of the battles, even the sounds of the students hollering their victory… It took him a few moments before he realized he was making the sound himself. He saw, felt, heard nothing but the pain, and his own screaming, and prayed that it would soon be over.   
He collapsed into a heap at her feet. She wore no smiles, no grimace of satisfaction, even at bringing him to his knees. "You are unworthy of the name of Black, of the name of Malfoy. What honor do you bring your father now? You have defied him in every manner possible. You dishonor the Dark Lord far more than Potter ever could! You are unworthy, Draco. Unworthy to live."   
Behind her, a smatter of students had turned towards the shrieking, including Potter and his group of Gryffindors. Harry, his eyes wide behind his round glasses, began to race swiftly towards them.   
Ginny was just behind him, her face contorted in horror as she caught sight of Bellatrix. The sounds around him were jumbled, but he saw her face contract; saw her mouth his name. She started towards them as well, behind Potter.   
_Don't come…she'll kill you…_   
There was a fire in Bellatrix's eyes—a wild, cold fire, one that could not sense or see anything of reason. "You will not dishonor the Dark Lord or his purpose any further. Your father will not be shamed by the sight of you ever again."   
Potter had almost reached them. He had his wand raised, he was mouthing a spell. A surge of gold and red light burst from his wand, flitting away into the night sky, repelled by the same charm she had used to banish his Patronus.…_a shield spell_? thought Draco confusedly.   
Potter continued to run towards them, shouting at Bellatrix…Ginny was on his heels, calling out Draco's name…From somewhere behind him, he heard a deep, threatening voice, a frightening voice…Dumbledore was near. But somehow, he knew it would be too late. They were all too late.   
"Go back to the shadows, where you have always been, nephew. Where you should have stayed. Where you belong." Bellatrix raised her wand. "I was saving this for Potter. But you most certainly deserve it more."   
" _Avada Kedavra!" _   
There was a flash of green light, and then…nothing. 


	7. Silver and Gold

In the Shadows: A Tale of Silver and Gold (in seven parts)   
  
**Chapter VII: Silver and Gold**  
  
_"Love is such an extraordinary force. It changes things beyond reason or reckoning. It can make heroes out of villains and villains out of heroes. It defies logic, and time, and even destiny. We cannot control it, even if we try, and we should not wish to. For more often than not, it is the only thing that can save us. Whether it be man to woman, boy to girl, or mother to child, it is unquestionably the most powerful magic we will ever discover, possess, or control. And the one type that cannot be overcome…"  
  
Albus Dumbledore_  
  
The stars were twinkling high above them; the moon had returned, lighting the grounds with a dim glow and shadowing the pale, pulled face of Bellatrix Lestrange as she pointed her wand at her fallen nephew.   
_"Avada Kedavra!" _   
Harry grabbed Ginny as she rushed past him, her hair flying about her face in a red-gold cloud.   
"DRACO!" she screamed, trying to break away from him. He pulled her to the ground as a bright green flash lit the area, blinding them.   
Harry pounded his fist into the ground, his face twisting as the green light subsided. He'd seen it happen before, and had been powerless to stop it then, too. Cedric Diggory's surprised expression ripped through his mind.   
_Not even Malfoy deserved that…_   
A cold, intense silence filled the air; Ginny was whimpering softly beside him, her face in the dirt, refusing to look up. Harry lifted his head. Around him, the gathered group of students were watching Bellatrix, horrified, as she glared at Draco, her face locked in a bitter hatred.   
It remained that way, even as she fell forward, her dark hair folding over her hollow face, her robes billowing out beneath her. She landed atop the still unmarked body of her nephew, her wand falling uselessly aside, silenced by the power of the one curse every wizard feared—and only Harry had ever survived.   
Harry's mouth dropped open, and he shook at Ginny's quivering shoulders. "Ginny…"   
From the shadows of the Entrance Hall, Narcissa Malfoy emerged, her wand raised, pointed at where her sister had stood. The remainder of Slytherin house was behind her, including the little girl with brown braids who had come to signal her arrival. They watched with wide eyes as she placed her wand inside her robes and moved sleekly into the dim brightness of the moonlit night.   
Ginny lifted her head, staring from the crumpled form of Bellatrix to Narcissa in confusion.   
Narcissa's expression bore a hint of cold satisfaction as she turned to Dumbledore, who had stopped when the Death Curse had been cast. He said nothing to her, however, and moved towards the pair lying on the ground, turning over Bellatrix's limp form with steady hands.   
The Death Eater's eyes remained open, but Harry could perceive the unmistakable mark of death on her face. Her strange, evil beauty was hindered only by the spiteful look she still bore for her nephew.   
"She was your sister, Narcissa," Dumbledore said softly, closing her eyes.   
"My sister or my son, Albus," Malfoy's mother replied coldly. "Which would you have chosen?"   
Dumbledore's eyes bore no sign of derision, but he gave no answer, only lowered Bellatrix gently to the ground.   
Malfoy's mother kneeled beside her sister's body, and dragged her son from beneath the long robes. Ginny pulled herself up, and walked to within feet of the pair.   
"Is he…alright?" she asked quietly.   
Narcissa placed a hand atop his cheek, her face softening, but only for a moment. "He's alive."   
Ginny heaved a relieved sigh. His mother glanced at her, one eyebrow raised.   
Ginny stepped back.   
"May we take him inside, please?"   
"Of course," said Dumbledore tersely.   
His mother tried to lift him; Ron stepped up to her, and lifted him from the ground.   
"I'll do it," he replied tartly, jostling Malfoy just a bit and setting off for the castle doors. Ginny walked swiftly to his side.   
Narcissa watched them for a moment, then turned back to the group, her gray eyes moving from Hermione's tear-streaked face to Harry's determined one, and settling on his lightning bolt scar, barely visible beneath his hair.   
Her nose turned up, and she lowered her eyes to his face, observing him coldly.   
Harry narrowed his eyes.   
"You tried to save him?" she asked.   
"Yes," Harry replied.   
She observed him a moment more with an expressionless face, then turned to follow the Weasley's, her neat, pretty robes floating out around her. Harry watched her go in confusion; Hermione looked utterly perplexed.   
He glanced down at the body of Bellatrix. He had every reason to hate her, to wish to see her dead, but for some reason, he felt no joy seeing her there; instead, he felt sad, and a little lost.   
_No one deserves that fate…_   
He was surprised he could think of her with any measure of pity, all things considered. He turned away, glancing down at his wand.   
_But—if I want to survive, I'll have to do the same, someday. _   
Hermione watched him for a moment, then looked to Professor Dumbledore as Ron, Ginny and Malfoy disappeared into the castle.   
"Isn't it illegal to use the Killing Curse in any situation, Professor? Even if she was trying to save him?"   
"Yes, I am afraid so."   
"Then what will happen to her?"   
Dumbledore gazed down at Bellatrix sadly. "That is not for me to say, Miss Granger. The Ministry wizards will have to decide whether what Narcissa did was correct or incorrect."   
"She saved his life," said Neville quietly. "She just wanted to protect her son, like any mother would."   
"Not all mothers would kill to save their children," said Hermione. "Some would sacrifice their own life before taking the life of another."   
"Not all are given that choice, Hermione," Harry replied, turning to face her. "Sometimes taking the life of another is the only thing that can be done, if you want those you love to survive."   
She stared at him rather intently. "What do you mean by that?"   
"It matters little now," said Dumbledore, before Harry could reply. "It is done, and it cannot be undone. And the decision as to whether it was the appropriate action now lies with the Ministry."   
"Don't think we'll have to wait long to find out," said Seamus, gesturing upwards.   
In the air above them, hundreds of wizards on broomsticks were circling about, trying to find safe landing areas. Out of the front door of Hogwarts, throngs of adult wizards were emerging, spreading out about the grounds, searching for their children.   
"Dumbledore!" cried a familiar voice from the Entrance Hall. "What on Earth happened here?"   
"Hello, Cornelius," said Dumbledore pleasantly, some hint of his customary twinkle returning to his blue eyes. "It has been rather a while, hasn't it?"   
Cornelius Fudge, the portly, diminutive Minister of Magic, made his way towards them, staring at the body of Bellatrix in horror. Percy Weasley trailed behind him, dressed in neat blue robes and a new pair of horn-rimmed glasses. He narrowed his eyes at Harry for a moment, before glancing, nonplussed, at the body of the Death Eater. Hermione tutted under her breath.   
"Is this the cause of all of these troublesome events?" The Minister asked after a moment, still riveted on Bellatrix's motionless form.   
"It appears so, Cornelius. Bellatrix Lestrange is at fault for all of this."   
"But why?"   
"It will take further investigation to understand the events that occurred tonight completely, but it is my belief her intentions were to destroy myself and the school without regard for any of the students."   
Percy was staring at him in shock, his mouth half-open; the Minister cleared his throat and he jumped. He withdrew a newly smoothed piece of parchment from his dress robes, along with a fancy quill, and began scribbling furiously.   
"And…it has nothing to do with…with…You-Know-Who?" continued the Minister.   
"With Voldemort, Cornelius. And no, I do not believe so. Voldemort would have never attempted something so foolhardy as to stage such an attack directly without some form of a ulterior motive. And he has no interest in seeing Hogwarts destroyed, outside of ridding himself of Mr. Potter or perhaps myself."   
Fudge eyed Harry for a moment. "And what about Potter? Was she coming after him?"   
"Yes…and no. Her attack was aimed in part at Harry—it might have even begun that way—but it soon evolved into a crusade to destroy Hogwarts itself. Harry had nothing to do with that. In fact, it was young Mr. Malfoy, not Mister Potter, who bore the brunt of her fury."   
"Malfoy? Do you mean Draco Malfoy, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's son? But that would be…her nephew, am I not mistaken?"   
"You are not mistaken."   
"Why would she attack him?"   
"Familial bonds do not run deep among the Death Eaters, Cornelius…at least not this particular family. I am sure you have not forgotten that."   
"Of course not." Fudge stared uncomfortably at the body of Bellatrix. "What happened to her? I know you did not perform the Death Curse, Dumbledore. Which one of you did?" He glanced over at Harry once more, his eyes running from Harry's lowered wand to the scar on his forehead.   
"Honestly! Don't be ridiculous!" snapped Hermione, crossing her arms. "How could you even _think_ that Harry had something to do with Bellatrix's death? He can't even _attempt_ a Death Curse, much less use it to take someone's life! Even if it is Bellatrix Lestrange!"   
"Is that so? Then what about you, Miss Granger? You seem to know quite a bit about that particular curse! I have been informed—by certain _people_—that you are a rather skilled young witch," Fudge said, glancing at Percy.   
Percy refused to look up from his parchment, although the bridge of his nose flushed a bright shade of pink.   
Harry glared at him a moment, then returned to Fudge, balling up his fist. "That's not funny."   
"No, it is not," said Dumbledore. His pleasant expression had disappeared. "It surprises me, Cornelius, that you would allow your rather unreasonable opinions of Harry his friends to cloud your judgment. No student here is capable of summoning the level of concentration it would take to perform a Death Curse, not even Miss Granger. Nor do they posses the hatred in their hearts necessary to _use_ such a curse."   
"Then who _is_ responsible, Dumbledore? You? I hardly believe you've decided to abandon your credo of never taking the life of another. One of your staff, then? Whoever is responsible shall be punished for their actions, you should know that."   
Dumbledore crossed his hands behind his back. "I expect they will. Except no one here is responsible for the death of Bellatrix. It was Narcissa Malfoy who took the life of her sister."   
"Narcissa Mal…? What? How?" cried Fudge.   
"I assume she came via Floo in much the same manner you did. She arrived in time to see her sister raise her wand to her nephew, and decided to take her sister's life rather than risk her son's."   
Fudge glanced uncertainly from the body of Bellatrix to Dumbledore. "And…where is she now?"   
"She has accompanied her son upstairs to the Hospital Wing. Bellatrix managed to attack young Mister Malfoy a few time with the Cruciatus curse before attempting to take his life. And her particular version of that curse is a rather brutal one…as I'm sure you remember."   
He glanced at Neville as he said this, who stared at Fudge defiantly, his chubby chin raised.   
Fudge looked away from Neville, mumbling. "Of course."   
"I suggest you survey the grounds, Cornelius, and speak with some of the students. They would be more than happy to inform you about what happened here tonight. I can guarantee you it shall not be forgotten in their minds, nor in the histories of Hogwarts, for as long as it has histories to tell. Now if you will excuse me for a moment, I must go and access the damage—and find out just how many suffered for the lives of everyone else. And…if you don't mind, Minister, might I borrow this?"   
He reached for Fudge's cloak, unfolding it over the remains of Bellatrix. Fudge watched as he laid it down, one hand extended, but said nothing. Dumbledore, with one final nod at the Minister, turned and moved towards the battered remains of the Front Gates, where Professor McGonagall was standing with a group of Hogwarts professors and Hogsmeade wizards. Fudge observed him for a moment, then cast a dark look at Harry and Hermione before turning to go.   
"You should know," said Harry sharply as the Minister started for the entrance to Hogwarts, "that everyone was involved here tonight. Not just the Gryffindors; the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws, and the Hufflepuffs too. All of the students fought to save the school, not just my friends or those who believed in Dumbledore and his cause. Even Malfoy himself decided that this school was more important to him than being a pure-blood wizard. That was the reason he was attacked. It was the reason he almost died. Even if it is only tonight, and everything goes back to the way it was tomorrow, there will be one day in which the children of _all_ wizards—muggle-borns, Death Eaters, and all in-between—fought side by side to protect each other."   
The Minister glanced over his shoulder, pursing his lips. Percy had stopped writing, and was watching Harry with an inquisitive look.   
"Come along, Mister Weasley," said the Minister finally, turning towards the Front Doors. "There are people we must contact. We need a team of Aurors out here to investigate the grounds and students right away."   
"And you…" hissed Hermione at Percy as he stuffed his fancy quill back into his pocket, "you should know that your brother and sister each also almost died tonight trying to defend against something _you_ still won't acknowledge as dangerous. I hope that at some point you realize that _they_ are what's important, and not some stupid job, before it _is_ too late."   
Percy paused.   
"Weasley!"   
He turned, and started off towards Fudge. "I'm terribly sorry, Minister," he said, refusing even a backwards glanced at the small group of Gryffindors.   
"I cannot _believe_ him!" Hermione cried. "He's impossible! Ron…Ginny…they could have been seriously hurt—and he didn't even ask if they were all right!"   
Harry laid a hand on her shoulder. "But at least _we_ know they're okay, and that's enough for now."   
"Still…why can't he understand that family should come first?"   
"I suppose for some people it will take more than a few near death encounters to realize that."   
"Let's just hope it doesn't take _more_ than that," said Hermione sadly.   
"Come on," said Harry, trying not to look at the shrouded form sprawled upon the ground. "We should go inside. Many of your parents will be arriving soon, looking for you…we should probably go into the Great Hall, to be ready for them."   
The Gryffindors nodded, and followed him slowly towards the entrance of Hogwarts.   
  
Ginny leaned further into the shadows of the Hospital wing, watching the slim, light-haired figure seated next to the bed nearest the door. Narcissa Malfoy had not moved from her son's side, nor had she glanced at Ginny, or Ron, although Ginny was more than certain Mrs. Malfoy knew they were there.   
Draco hadn't stirred at all since the second Cruciatus attack; he would more than likely have no memory of how close he had come to dying.   
Ginny was rather glad of that.   
Madam Pomfrey bustled past her, carrying a small vial of serum. She uncorked it, pouring some into a glass, and mixed it with two packets of gray colored powder.   
"Here we are," she said, lifting Draco's head to allow the potion to pour into his mouth. "Don't worry a bit, Miss Bla—er, Mrs. Malfoy, isn't it, now? You still look the same, dear. This little bit of potion will help him heal slightly faster. I used it on Miss Weasley just last night, and it worked wonders for her, as you can see."   
Narcissa turned to gaze at Ginny, her expression placid, and cold. Ginny gulped.   
"Of course, I doubt that she had anything as severe as a Cruciatus curse placed on her—especially by…well, never mind. But it helped nonetheless."   
"How seriously _is_ he hurt, Madam Pomfrey?" asked Mrs. Malfoy, her expression softening. It was the first hint of emotion Ginny had seen from her all evening…save the flashes of bitter hatred in her eyes as she'd struck down her sister.   
_Her own sister…_   
Madam Pomfrey looked kindly at her. "He will be fine, Narcissa. I promise. Give him a little time," she pulled the covers up to his shoulders. "And don't bother him too much if he wakes, he'll need time to think it over. Now if you will kindly excuse me, I need to check on the students and make sure all the chocolate is administered properly. Mr. Weasley, would you please give me a hand with these?"   
She gestured at a few large bars of dark chocolate. Ron glanced from Ginny to Narcissa worriedly; Ginny just shook her head.   
"I'll be fine."   
Ron lifted himself from the wall, and hoisted a few of the heavy bars. "What are these for? We've got an entire mountain range of chocolate downstairs."   
"This is dark chocolate, it works faster and is much more potent. For only the serious cases. Don't brook argument, Mr. Weasley," she said sternly as Ron opened his mouth. "We have to do this quickly."   
He nodded, and with roll of his eyes, followed her out the door.   
Ginny watched as they moved down the hall, headed for the entrance. After a few moments, their footsteps had all but disappeared.   
"I suppose I should thank you, although I'm not exactly certain why," said Mrs. Malfoy suddenly.   
Ginny snapped her head around.   
Narcissa had swiveled slightly and was watching Ginny out of the corner of her eye.   
"W-what…why?" Ginny rasped.   
"Draco was the one who organized the Slytherins, am I correct? He convinced them to defend the school."   
"Y-yes, I believe so…"   
"He had to have had a reason. It certainly wasn't because he cared about the other students. From the very beginning of his life, I've taught my son to take care of himself first, and to think of no one else. But today, for some reason, he chose to ignore my advice. And I believe the reason he did so was because of you."   
"I'm not…so certain about…"   
"Of course you are. I am no fool. His behavior at the Manor last night gave him away completely."   
Ginny stared at her blankly.   
"Draco has always been…stubborn…about things. But he is not a hero, he has never asked to be one. He will fight back when provoked, he has enough of his father in him for that…and he will attack if he feels that it is worth it or a defense of his honor. But last night, he attacked Bella when she tried to curse you. Without any cause—he tried to stop her from attacking. That is unlike Draco."   
She turned, lifting a hand to his pale face, and pushed aside a few strands of his loose, silvery-blond hair.   
"He did that for you," she continued. "And he did in despite my being there, which meant he was not thinking beyond the consequences of his actions. All he knew was that he wanted to save you.   
"That is why I did not attempt to stop Bella from taking you down to the dungeons last night. The idea of my son…" she shook her head. "It seemed ridiculous. But even after you had been taken away, Draco was not himself. He abandoned his rooms, he stole into Bella's, he rescued you from the dungeons…and he placed himself in mortal danger without considering the protection Malfoy Manor might provide. That impudent message he left with Teenija, causing me to worry…the fact that he did not return my owl…all of those were signs that my son had changed."   
Ginny glanced at the floor, her heart racing.   
"But…however that might have upset me at the time, the fact remains that had Draco not done all those things, he would most likely be dead right now, along with all of the rest of you. From what I understand, the Slytherins turned the tide of this battle, is that correct?"   
"Yes Ma'am," Ginny nodded. "Without him, or the rest of the Slytherins, the Dementors would most certainly have gotten inside the castle…and would have killed a great many students in the process. It was their Patroni that saved us all."   
"_Patroni?! _" cried Mrs. Malfoy. "Draco performed the Patronus spell?"   
"Yes, Ma'am."   
Narcissa looked down at Draco's sleeping face. "A Patronus. Not even his father is capable of that. It was the one spell he could not master. What form did it take?"   
"A Dragon."   
"Of course," said Narcissa with a smile, brushing another strand of hair from his face. She turned back to Ginny. "Come here."   
Ginny remained where she was, her arms wrapped around her.   
Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "You need not fear me, girl. Whatever I might think of you or your family, you helped to save Draco tonight. For that, you shall come to no harm. Not by my hand."   
Ginny walked slowly towards her, her chin raised. "And your husband?"   
"As with Bella," said Malfoy's mother coolly, "I have no control over the actions of Lucius. What you can be assured of, however—if Draco wishes it, that is—is my discretion."   
Ginny moved towards her, sitting on the bed next to Draco. Narcissa turned back to her son, periodically smoothing his hair. Together, they sat in silence, waiting.   
  
"Seven," said Professor Dumbledore, coming over to where Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the Great Hall. Dawn had finally arrived, giving the hall a rosy, ethereal brightness. "Seven."   
Hermione's lower lip began trembling. "Seven casualties?"   
Professor Dumbledore nodded.   
"Who?" asked Harry swiftly.   
"Two Hogsmeade wizards, Professor Lynch…"   
Ron shuddered.   
"…and…four students."   
Hermione let out a tiny cry.   
Dumbledore's eyes filled with tears. "Gregory Allendon and Astor Reid—A sixth year and a seventh year in Hufflepuff. Amanda Jenkins, a fourth year Ravenclaw. And Anthony Dolohov—a fifth year Slytherin."   
Harry swallowed. "Do their parents know?"   
"The Allendons are on their way now—they are muggles, but have been informed of what has occurred. The Reids arrived with the Ministry wizards. They're conferring with Professor Sprout. Mrs. Jenkins has returned to London with Professor Flitwick to call on her family. As for Mr. and Mrs. Dolohov…"   
"They're in Azkaban," said Harry hoarsely. Dumbledore nodded, a strange expression on his face. Harry's eyes widened. "They don't know, do they?"   
"The _Minister_," said Professor Dumbledore, his tone hardening for a moment, "believes that the shock of their son's death might cause too much pain—leaving them susceptible to the dangers of Azkaban. He worries it might bring about their early deaths—_before_ they're able to stand trial—and give information on Voldemort."   
"So…what…they're not going to know?!" cried Hermione. "He's not going to tell them their son is dead? Just because he wants information?"   
"Apparently, the Minister is of the impression that their son's death will be easier to cope with when they've left Azkaban for trial."   
"They'll go mad," said Harry softly. "If they find out later he died fighting for Hogwarts, and they weren't told about it right away, there will be nothing that will stem their anger. They'll become what Bellatrix was."   
"The Minister has taken that into account, but argues that there is little chance they'll leave Azkaban after the trial. They won't have the ability to exact revenge."   
"He doesn't know very much about parents and their children," said Harry coldly.   
"They're all fools…all of them," Ron snorted, pounding his fist to the table. "They're making our lives harder. Fudge and all the rest of those bloody idiots just need to be thrown out."   
"Whatever his faults, Cornelius has had his moments, Mr. Weasley. And if you question his abilities, perhaps you should have the burden of governing the Wizarding world—especially now that Voldemort has returned—placed on your shoulders. It is certainly more difficult than the duties of a Prefect—which you sometimes have trouble with, I believe? He deserves, at least, your respect."   
"Yes, sir" mumbled Ron, his ears going pink.   
"However," said Dumbledore, "changes in government are usually only wrought when someone has the courage to voice their opinions and dislikes. It does not dishonour him to criticize his politics. Why, I make sure to do so at least twice a day."   
Ron nodded.   
"Anyhow…I believe the Dolohovs will learn of their son's tragic circumstances, whether the Minister believe it appropriate or not."   
"I am certain they shall," said Hermione, staring at him sadly.   
"Well, there isn't much more to do here," said Harry after a moment of awkward silence. "Do you need our help with anything, Professor?"   
"Not at the moment, Harry. But I suppose you should go and check on the others, to make certain they are all doing well."   
"Yeah," Ron replied. "And I want to go make sure Ginny…"   
"RONALD WEASLEY!"   
Harry, Hermione, Ron and the Headmaster turned towards the doors; Molly Weasley was standing in the archway, hands planted firmly on her hips. Her hair looked slightly mussed and her jumper was on backward. Following behind her, looking only slightly less distraught, were Fred, George, Bill, and their father.   
"Oh Thank Heavens! We were so worried!" she cried, flinging her arms about him as he stood to greet her. Ron struggled against her grasp, his face almost as red as his hair. "Mum…"   
"What happened? The Ministry of Magic couldn't get in touch with the school, the other members of the You-Know-What were terribly concerned! No had heard anything, and then these two came up," she gestured behind her at two tiny house elves bearing tea towels with the Hogwarts crest, "saying something about the school being attacked!"   
"Took us almost half the day to convince the Minister that it wasn't some kind of hoax," said Arthur. "He said that it must be, because Hogwarts wouldn't send two elves as messengers."   
"As though two house elves could just decide they _wanted_ to pull a hoax about the most powerful wizard in the country, and break all House enslavement rules just to do so," snorted George.   
"By the time they did figure it out," said Bill, "no wizards could apparate anywhere near Hogwarts. The closest they could get was at least forty miles away."   
"Fifty," murmured Harry.   
"FIFTY?" cried Mrs. Weasley. "FIFTY!"   
"All of the repelling spells were reversed, as well as the 'field of apparition'," said Ron, somewhat smugly.   
"How do you know about the field of apparition?" asked Bill.   
"I…Hermione told me," said Ron quickly, catching her annoyed expression. "The owls were also turned away, and the Floo network shut off."   
"We know," said Arthur. "A fellow named Roget…Ferdinand Roget…was caught tampering with the Floo earlier today. He's been removed, so to speak…   
"I think they can handle it, Dad," Bill chided.   
"…er, well, actually, he's dead…attacked by a Dementor."   
Harry, Ron and Hermione shuddered.   
"He wasn't the only one, though. There's no telling who else might be working for the Death Eaters within the Ministry. At least five people, for all of those spells around Hogwarts to have been altered as they were."   
"But we always expected that, didn't we?" asked Harry. "We all know Voldemort has more wizards under his control than the Ministry suspects."   
"Oh Harry dear!" cried Mrs. Weasley, seizing first he, then Hermione, in fierce hugs. "You were so brave! You were all so brave. Although it was terribly irresponsible of…certain _people_…to have asked you to battle in the first place." She glanced over at Dumbledore as she said this; he smiled kindly at her.   
"We were the ones who decided to fight, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione, pulling herself gently out of Mrs. Weasley's grasp. "We knew the professors could not do it alone. Or rather, Harry knew."   
"We _all_ knew," said Harry, shrugging. "None of us could have done this alone. If we'd been even one person short, there would have been many more casualties."   
"Well, if the Ministry wizards had just…"   
"The Ministry wizards couldn't, Molly," said Mr. Weasley softly. "If we—or any members of the Order—could have, believe me, we would. But most of us owe the lives of our children to our children. You should be proud that they were strong enough to defend themselves…and the school."   
"Well of _course_ I am," defended Mrs. Weasley, crossing her arms. "I never thought they were incapable of doing such things! I only hoped…I hoped they'd never have to."   
"I am afraid this is only the beginning, Molly," said Professor Dumbledore. "We face a much greater danger than an army of Dementors."   
"Voldemort," said Harry softly.   
"Yes, Voldemort."   
"What could he possibly have up his sleeve that's worse than a bloody great army of Dementors?" snorted Ron.   
"There are ways, I am afraid, of inflicting pain that do not require an army, or battle, although I do suspect Lord Voldemort will employ both. He may even attempt a similar tactic to the one used here tonight. But Voldemort's purpose is what is to be feared, not his methods.   
"Bellatrix's intent was to reach inside the school and destroy it. And perhaps to extinguish the life of Harry, or even myself. But she did not understand the desires of her master.   
"Voldemort's true intentions, from the first time he heard of Harry's birth, has been to rid himself of any threat he might face in reaching to his ultimate goal. Voldemort desires Harry's death because he fears him—and he has good reason to. But he only desires to take Harry's life because Harry is the only one that has been proven capable of endangering his greater efforts. In the end, it is not Harry he wishes ultimately to destroy."   
"It's the muggle-borns," said Hermione softly.   
"And," said Dumbledore seriously, "perhaps all muggles everywhere."   
Ron's eyes widened. "But that would mean…that would mean hundreds of thousands of people…everywhere! He can't possibly…"   
"He can. He bears enough hatred for them," said Harry. "More wizards do than they are willing to admit."   
"That is the unfortunate truth. As we knew last year, it is not just a battle we are facing…it is a war. And we must all be prepared for it, whether we think ourselves ready, or not."   
"And that goes for everyone," said Hermione.   
"Especially _us_," Ron said, glancing at Harry. "Because we will be more involved than anyone else."   
"Not if _I_ have anything to say about it," said Mrs. Weasley, re-crossing her arms.   
"Well intentioned as you might be, Molly, I am afraid that this time, you don't," said Dumbledore, gazing at Harry with saddened eyes.   
Harry swallowed.   
_…Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…_   
Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips, looking a bit like a ruffled hen, then caught sight of Harry's expression. Her face softened, and she drew him into her arms, holding him closely. "Don't worry, dear. Everything will be fine."   
Harry closed his eyes, allowing the words to fade from his mind. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."   
"You're welcome. Now, tell me," she said, releasing him. "What has happened to my daughter? Where's Ginny?"   
Ron and Hermione glanced at one another apprehensively. Harry tried not to look at her face, and stuffed his hands in his pockets.   
"She's in the Hospital Wing, Molly," said Professor Dumbledore finally.   
"WHAT?"   
"Don't worry, it is not what you think. Miss Weasley is perfectly fine."   
"Yeah," whispered Ron, so only Harry and Hermione could hear. "Until they find out _why_ she's there."   
  
Ginny tilted her head to the side, watching Draco from her position on the bed. He hadn't stirred in almost two hours; Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be growing more and more worried with each passing minute.   
"I'm going in search of Madam Pomfrey," she said finally, releasing Draco's hand. "I want to make sure he doesn't need any more treatments. Please stay here with him?" she asked Ginny.   
Ginny nodded, sliding down to the chair Mrs. Malfoy vacated. "Don't worry."   
Narcissa nodded, swallowing, and left through the hospital wing doors. Ginny leaned forward slightly, studying Draco's sleeping face.   
He looked peaceful; he hadn't moved since Ron had brought him in here. He was also unmarred, although Ginny knew what he would be suffering when he awoke—the mark of an excellent Cruciatus Curse was that no one could tell you'd been attacked.   
And Bellatrix Lestrange had been a master of Cruciatus. Ginny knew enough about Neville's family to know that.   
His right hand lay alongside his body where his mother had released it; it was the same hand whose fingers had touched her face softly in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor; that had handed her the chocolate in front of Hogwarts. That had wielded the wand that had saved them all.   
She lifted it gently, lacing her fingers through his.   
"I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear, but you really did compare to Harry this evening. We all know he's the one who has to face Voldemort in the end, so he's had to learn to be a hero, even when he didn't want to be. Tonight, you did the same thing. And you saved us all." She squeezed his hand. "No one will forget you for that, even if you might want it.   
"But now…now you've placed yourself in greater danger. Your father…the other Death Eaters...they might not understand this. They might hold you responsible for Bellatrix, for the loss of the Dementors…for saving Harry, and Dumbledore, and…me. And then Voldemort…"   
She shuddered.   
"What your mother said…that's not the truth, is it? You wouldn't have risked all that just for me. You would never be so foolish, that's just not like you."   
"Isn't it?" rasped a soft voice.   
Ginny shrieked, dropping his hand, and leapt away from the bed. Draco laughed softly. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and he was grimacing slightly, but he was conscious.   
"DRACO!" she cried, moving up alongside him again. "You're awake!"   
"Really, I hadn't noticed…"   
"Stop making jokes! I…I have to go get Madam Pomfrey…and your mother…"   
"My Mother?" he asked confusedly, reaching for her hand and clasping it softly. "Wait just a moment, yet…" he shut his eyes, clenching his teeth and shuddering.   
"I'm going to get the nurse…"   
"Don't go," he pleaded, pulling at her weakly. "They'll be back soon, I'm sure. Just stay here with me a moment."   
Ginny eyed him worriedly, but sighed, and sat back down. He closed his eyes, but didn't release her hand.   
"We were all so worried…we thought she'd killed you, for a moment. If it hadn't been for your mother…" Ginny bowed her head.   
"My mother saved me?"   
Ginny nodded, her lip trembling. "She…she killed her, Draco. She killed her own sister."   
Draco opened his eyes. "I am not surprised. My mother would do anything to protect me, even if it meant getting rid of my aunt. They were not close, they never have been. Even before Azkaban."   
"But…she was a part of your family."   
"Our families are different," he said softly. "Even if someone in your family betrayed you, you would not stop loving them. That is how you and your brothers believe family should be. My family is not bonded in that way."   
"And what about you, then? Do you not believe that either?"   
"I know that I'm capable of loving someone. And protecting someone. Whether the rest will come with time, I don't know."   
A tear rolled down Ginny's face. "You almost died tonight, Draco. That's my fault. I convinced you to come out and fight with us, when you shouldn't have had to. I made you go against your beliefs, when I should have understood your point of view…I'm so sorry…"   
"Don't be!" he cried, sitting up swiftly—and falling back to the pillow with a grimace. "Don't be. Ginny…" he placed his other hand over hers. "You convinced me this was the right thing to do, and I doubted it, but in the end, it _was_ the right thing to do. The other Slytherins didn't come because they believed in you. They came because they believed in Slytherin…and Hogwarts. You showed me that there are things more important than Slytherin, and I showed them…and in the end, you were right. You were _right. _"   
"You saved us all, you and all the rest of them. You saved the school tonight."   
"And…Potter?"   
"Harry guided us there…he had the courage, but Slytherin had the power."   
He settled back into the pillow with a small smile. "As it should be."   
"You really _do_ hate him, don't you?"   
"Of course. Nothing will ever change that," he said, but he sounded less convincing then he ever had before.   
She watched him as he opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. She had something she had to know…but…she swallowed. "And what about…what about You-Know-Who?"   
He turned to her swiftly. "What?"   
"Bellatrix…we think…she rebelled against You-Know-Who. But what are you going to do about him? He's still out there, waiting…"   
A pained look emerged on his face, and he closed his eyes. "Ginny…I honestly don't know. I don't know what will happen when he calls on the Death Eaters…or what their children will do. I don't even know what I will do—or how I will feel. Can we not…dwell on this now?"   
Her hand trembled beneath his. "I…I just want to be prepared…I don't want to lose you again…in a way that no one can save you…I don't think I could take that…"   
"Ginny," he raised his hand to her cheek. "I wish I could…but I'm not going to guarantee anything. All I can promise is..."   
"DRACO!"   
Malfoy's hand dropped from her face as Narcissa, wide-eyed, darted to the other side of the bed. "Oh my dear! You're awake!"   
Madam Pomfrey was behind her; Ginny slid her hand out from beneath his. The Hogwarts nurse came around to his bedside and touched his face lightly.   
"How are you feeling?"   
Draco winced a bit at her touch. "Fine."   
Madam Pomfrey straightened with a smirk. "Do you know, Mr. Malfoy, that's probably the first time I've ever heard you _not_ complain about a serious injury. And this time you actually have a reason."   
Ginny and Narcissa glared at her.   
"Well, it's a small order of a few potions and you'll be good as new by the end of the day. You're not feeling lightheaded now, are you?"   
"No, Madam Pomfrey."   
"Well then, excellent, I shall go brew those for you and inform Professor Dumbledore right away, so he no longer has to worry."   
They watched the nurse hurry swiftly away; Ginny glanced from Mrs. Malfoy's pinched face to Draco's pale one.   
"I'm going to find Ron and the others and let them know you're alright. They were really worried."   
"I'm certain they _were. _"   
She shook her head. "I'll see you in a bit." Ginny walked with her back towards the doors, then whirled on her heel, heading out to find Ron.   
  
Draco watched as Ginny turned with one last small smile, her hair flying about her in a red-gold cloud. He felt a small pang of regret as he watched her go; he hadn't been able to tell her the entire truth about what might yet come—but he'd been as honest as he could, and he didn't think he could go back on his word.   
"She seems amiable, at least," said his mother, her eyes fixed on the door. "For a friend of Potter and a mudblood-lover."   
Draco sighed, shifting slightly in his bed. "Mother, please."   
"I am simply being honest, Draco. You must realize what a predicament this had placed all of us in. I had to _kill_ Bellatrix. Then there is your father—what is he going to think? And how do we explain to the rest of the Death Eaters that you aren't going to step into your father's place?"   
"I didn't even know I was _supposed_ to step into his place."   
Narcissa tutted. "Of course you were. You knew that, Draco. You've know that for quite a while. Just because this little snit has changed your mind…"   
_"Mother…"_   
"Fine…this Miss Weasley, then, has changed your mind."   
"She hasn't, mother," Draco said, pulling himself up slowly. Narcissa leaned over and adjusted the pillows behind him. "She hasn't changed my mind about _everything. _"   
"She's changed your mind about _enough. _"   
Draco stared at her for a moment, then smiled softly. "I suppose you're right."   
Narcissa sighed, sitting on the bed beside him and wrapping her arms around him gently. "What ever am I going to do with you, Draco? You've placed your life in such great danger, now. If your father were ever to find out…"   
"Then we shall tell him it was Slytherin protecting itself, and nothing more."   
"But the other Slytherins know about this Miss Weasley, don't they? It is only a matter of time before one of them tells their parents."   
"We shall deal with that when the time comes, Mother. But I am still a Slytherin. That will not change. And I do not support Potter—I don't even like him, and that won't change either."   
His mother observed him with sad gray eyes. "If you wish for that to give me comfort, it doesn't. Potter isn't really what's important, at least not in the grand scheme of things. In the end, Draco, you will have a choice to make…you realize that."   
He swallowed, nodding. "And when the time comes, I will consider it. But for right now…for right _now_…I just want to have a little bit of peace. In case…"   
Ginny's face flashed through his mind. As did his father's, peering beneath the hood of his black cloak. Draco placed a hand to his forehead, frowning.   
"Draco?"   
"I love her, Mother."   
"I can see that, darling. I only wish it was enough."   
  
Ginny made her way into the Great Hall, searching the Gryffindor table for Ron. She caught sight of him near the front of the room, along with five other bobbing red heads.   
"But why is she in the Hospital Wing?" Asked a familiar voice, "if she hasn't been hurt?"   
"She's…"   
"Mum?"   
Mrs. Weasley whirled around. "GINNY! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"   
All chatter in the hall died away as Mrs. Weasley broke into a run; Ginny felt the familiar blush spread across her face as her mother rushed over to her, engulfing her in an enormous hug. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George and Bill were all grinning; her father was shaking hands with Dumbledore and glancing over at her periodically to make sure she was all right.   
"I'm fine, Mum, honestly."   
"Oh, Ginny dear! How do you feel?" She pulled back, staring Ginny in the face. "You weren't attacked, were you? They just told us you were in Hospital!"   
Behind her, Ron was shaking his head violently and making a cutting motion with his hands.   
"No, Mum…no more than any of the other Gryffindors," she replied, after eyeing Ron a moment. Mrs. Weasley raised an eyebrow, but pulled her back into a fierce embrace. "My poor darling! How brave you were. I could just have words with those Professors…"   
"Mummm…"   
"Ginny, why were you in the Hospital Wing?" asked her father, pulling her out of her mother's grasp long enough for a quick hug.   
"I was checking on a student…he was the only one injured seriously enough for Madam Pomfrey to place him in Hospital," said Ginny ambiguously. "And he's just woken up. I think he's going to be fine."   
"That's good news."   
"He was really badly hurt. Bellatrix used the Cruciatus curse on him."   
Mrs. Weasley raised a hand to her mouth. "How terrible."   
"You seem to be _awfully_ concerned about this student," said George, coming up behind them.   
"_Terribly_," added Fred, a smile on his face.   
"Stop," Ron said suddenly. His face was scrunched into a grimace. "That's enough."   
"Why?" asked Fred. "What's the big secret? Is this guy Ginny's new boyfriend?"   
Hermione glanced at Ginny, wide-eyed.   
"Its no secret," Ginny said, crossing her arms.   
"Ginny…" Ron cried warningly.   
"What's going on?" said their father, glancing back and forth between them. Harry and Hermione backed away.   
"I do care, very much, thank you."   
"Ginny…"   
"Ooo…Ginny's gotten a boyfriend…_again_."   
"Very clever, Fred. As a matter of fact, he's not quite my boyfriend, but he might well soon be."   
"Who is it this year?"   
"Seamus Finnegan?"   
"Ernie MacMillian?"   
"Colin Creevey?" Both twins chortled.   
"GINNY…" Ron said warningly.   
"Who is he, dear?"   
"Well…"   
"Some pretty boy, I'd wager."   
"Not really."   
"GINNY!"   
"What's the problem, Ron?"   
"Stop being such a git."   
"Its not like she's dating Draco Malfoy or anything."   
"That would be a grand…Ron, why is your face all twisted up?"   
"Are you sick, dear? Do you need more chocolate?"   
"Wait a minute…"   
The twins whirled on her, identical expressions of horror on their faces. "HAVE YOU LOST YOUR BLOODY MIND??!!"   
  
Draco moved slowly over to the stone wall, pausing beside it to catch his breath. Madam Pomfrey had released him, but only on the condition he return to Slytherin to receive some rest. Else he would be sent up to the Hospital Wing once more, for the fourth time this week.   
His mother had gone upstairs to confront the Ministry officials who were investigating the battle scene. She would more than likely be there for quite a while—at least as long as it would take to document the events surrounding her sister's death.   
He didn't question her motives; her actions hadn't surprised him at all. But he was afraid that because her husband was a Death Eater, they would not take the circumstances into account. There were no reprieves—the Killing Curse was completely forbidden—but there were ways around it that might not have her sent to Azkaban.   
_Now would be a good time to have Dumbledore on your side…_   
Dumbledore seemed particularly skilled at getting guilty people out of trouble.   
He touched the entrance to Slytherin with his fingers. "Pureblood."   
There was an air of somberness to the usually comfortable sitting room. Gathered around the fire, the students weren't talking; a few were actually crying. There were no parents present, which surprised him.   
He walked over to the center of the room, a tremor running through them as he observed their dire faces. "What's wrong?"   
Startled, the group turned. A few brightened at the sight of him; Pansy leapt out of her seat, her face streaked with tears. She embraced him softly, laying her head on his shoulder.   
"Draco…we thought she'd killed you."   
He patted her gently, then pulled away, walking over to the mantelpiece, and leaning against it. "I got lucky."   
"Yes, you did," snuffled Millicent. "But Anthony didn't."   
Draco stared at her for a moment, then glanced about the room, his eyes going wide. On the table in the center of the room, Anthony Dolohov's wand, robe, and prefect's badge were laid in a tidy bundle.   
He swallowed. "What happened?"   
"He was fighting the Dementors on the lower side of the ridge. He heard you call for reinforcements, and I guess he wasn't looking…" Goyle placed one hand over his eyes. "A Lethifold came out of the forest. Anthony had dropped his wand."   
Pansy let out a whimper.   
Draco lowered his head. There was a hollow in his chest. "Do his parents know?"   
"Of course not," snapped Zachary Tolbert. "They're in Azkaban, remember?"   
"That doesn't mean they can't be notified."   
"They aren't going to be," sniffed Blaise Zabini. "I overheard Dumbledore telling Potter and his gang that the Minister of Magic has refused to send them notice of Anthony's death. Something about their being "too distraught" which isn't good in Azkaban."   
"So…they're not going to learn of their son's death?" asked Pansy, horrified.   
"Not until they're put to trial…unless Dumbledore can get in there, somehow. He said he'd try."   
"Even if he does…we'll notify them," said Draco suddenly. "We can let them know what happened."   
"How?"   
"My mother contacts my father all the time. He'll find a way to tell them. They deserve to know the truth…that Anthony died fighting…bravely. That it was Bellatrix's fault, and that he died to save Slytherin."   
There was silence for a moment.   
"We didn't make a mistake doing this, did we, Draco?" Pansy asked finally.   
He frowned at her, then looked to the others; most wore expressions of doubt and regret.   
Draco sighed. It wouldn't be as easy to convince them as it had been Ginny. "I'm not _absolutely_ certain—but I think Slytherin would be proud of what we've accomplished tonight. I don't think he would dispute that it was us who really saved the school. We were right to do what we did, in the end."   
"That's what everyone else is saying, too," said Crabbe, brightening a bit.   
"But look at what it cost us!" cried Blaise. "We lost Anthony!"   
"Imagine what we might have lost," said Draco, "if we _hadn't_ decided to fight. But in one respect, you're right. We owe Anthony and those others our lives"   
"No…we owe them part of our lives. The rest we owe to you." said Pansy.   
"You owe me nothing," said Draco, lowering his head. "What you said earlier today was true. I _wasn't_ doing this for the reasons you were. You can't trust me anymore."   
"You are still a part of Slytherin," Millicent snorted, an impudent grin on her face. "That part of you can't change, no matter what you try and do. And as long as you don't go around arm and arm with the Gryffindors, then there will be a place for you here."   
"That will never happen," said Draco artfully.   
"It will with one of them," retorted Pansy, her eyes narrowing.   
Draco stared at her; the other Slytherins glanced between them uncomfortably.   
"I don't know about the future—but for right now, there are some things that I might choose to overlook," said Millicent. "If I try _very_ hard."   
"But it won't be forever, you know," said Avery. "Just because you helped us—led us, really—doesn't mean we'll forgive everything."   
"And you can't forget where you true loyalties lie, Draco. You are a Slytherin, first and foremost. You will be called and when that happens, I hope you remember what _really_ matters."   
He looked slowly from one face to the next. A few looked angry, but most appeared to be thinking the same as Millicent was. They really were his family…and they were doing something they absolutely despised, because they…   
"I will remember," he said. "I promise."   
  
Ginny sat with her feet tucked beneath her in front of the Common room fireplace. The rest of the room was bustling; both parents and students were awaiting word from Dumbledore that the school was indeed safe. Some of them had managed to sleep over the few hours they'd been waiting, but Ginny hadn't felt tired at all.   
She'd thought about going to visit Draco again in the Hospital wing, but one look at the faces of her parents and brothers told her this was probably not a good idea. The Weasleys were gathered close to her, Fred and George leaning against the wall with identical scowls; Bill and Mrs. Weasley attending to her father; Hermione and Ron talking quietly at the foot of her chair. Harry had gone back to the Entrance Hall in search of Professor McGonagall.   
The twins had tried everything to change her mind about Draco, from coaxing to begging and pleading to threatening that Malfoy's first visit to the Burrow would be his last, but Ginny had been unrelenting.   
"I'm sorry…these things can't just be flipped on and off, you know. This is the choice I've made, and you're just going to have to live with it."   
"I can live with it," Fred had replied. "I just don't know if Malfoy will."   
"_Malfoy_?" Bill had said helplessly. "Isn't that a really _bad_ idea?"   
"It might be, but I can't control that now, can I?"   
"Ginny…dear…are you sure this isn't just a passing fancy? I mean, you've had it happen before."   
"Not like this, Mum," Ginny scowled.   
Her father had been the hardest to manage. He'd sat down on the one of the benches in the Great Hall, and hadn't spoken for a full five minutes; Ron was worried he'd gone into a state of irreversible shock. It had taken two different versions of Fred and George's famed Sonorus charm to even get him to move, and a particularly clever reviving spell from Hermione to make him speak.   
"Lucius's son?" he'd murmured finally, in an odd, squeaky voice. "Lucius's son?"   
"Yes, Dad," Ginny said firmly, crossing her arms. "Draco."   
Harry had winced.   
They hadn't said anymore on the matter, and had left for the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George with their identical scowls, Mum looking worried, Bill perplexed, and Harry, Ron and Hermione helping a befuddled Mr. Weasley out of the Entrance doors.   
Ginny shook her head, returning her gaze to the fire. "I hoped it wouldn't be this difficult."   
"What did you expect," Ron said, turning from Hermione, "a blessing and 'welcome to the family?'"   
"Of course not!" she cried, then lowered her voice as the twins' steely gazes hardened. "But…I suppose it could have been worse…"   
"It could still _be_ worse," whispered Hermione. "Fred and George have figured how to get into Slytherin, you know."   
"I know," said Ginny. "I've already jinxed their wands in case they try anything foolish."   
"How _are_ you going to manage this?" Hermione asked curiously. "Aside from your brothers periodically trying to kill him, you'll have all of Gryffindor…and Slytherin…to contend with."   
Ginny shrugged. "I'm not certain. None of this came about in the usual way…but I suppose we'll have to work it along as we go. Neither Draco nor myself thought this would be easy…come to think on it, we haven't discussed it, yet. We haven't exactly had the _time_…"   
"So, then…how do you _know_ he's really…you know…if you haven't _discussed_ it, yet? He could be pulling a prank," George interrupted, still scowling.   
"Oh, of course…as so many boys decide to face a hundred Dementors, confront a crazy, obsessed Death Eater relative, and create the biggest Patronus I've ever seen because it works right in with the joke they were concocting," Hermione snorted, crossing her arms. "Makes perfect sense."   
"For a _Malfoy_," hissed Fred. "Now, now, that's enough," said Mrs. Weasley softly. "No need to disturb your father any further. Ginny, dear…how should I…what should we…er…should we invite him over for tea, sometime?"   
Ron choked on the chocolate frog he was eating.   
"Ummm…I don't really know if that is such a grand idea," replied Ginny anxiously, as Hermione slapped Ron forcefully upon the back a few times. "Perhaps we should just start slowly. Let _me_ work out things with him first."   
"Of…of course, dear, whatever you want."   
"Malfoy's son?" said her father squeakily.   
"There, there, dear. Ginny has a level-head on her shoulders, we all know that. I trust her to make the correct decision about people—even if they are, well… And after all, this boy did risk his life to save her."   
"Malfoy's son?"   
The portrait hole swung open, and Harry waltzed through, followed by Professor McGonagall. She was beaming; the rest of Gryffindor turned to watch her, their own faces brightening as she stood in the spot where, only a few hours ago, she had left them. And they had been certain she would not return.   
"Professor Dumbledore has informed me that the Ministry has officially declared the battle over. There are no more Dementors or Lethifold anywhere within the vicinity of Hogwarts, as far as they can detect. Of course, care will always have to be taken within the confines of the Dark Forest, but no more so than with any other threat the forest might present.   
"Further, Professor Dumbledore has been informed that the Ministry has declared this a day that will live in wizarding history as one of the greatest battles of our time. A plaque commemorating each and every student that was present today, whether they were actually fighting or inside supporting their Houses, will be remembered for their bravery and skill.   
"Finally…as I'm sure you're well aware, we lost…a few of our own, tonight," she said, growing somber. "As well as a few of our neighboring wizards…and one of our professors. It could have been much worse, of course—much, much worse—but that does not lessen this tragedy. To commemorate their sacrifice, they shall each be awarded special plaques in our trophy room, and those who choose to may wear a black necktie through the end of term.   
"Now…we have all been asked to make our way to the Great Hall. I believe Professor Dumbledore shall be speaking in a few moments." She smiled at them a final time before moving into the center of the room, greeting the Gryffindor parents.   
"Fudge actually decided to commemorate the students?" asked Hermione as Harry moved over to them.   
"Not exactly," he replied, helping she and Ron to their feet. "It took a great deal of convincing, from both the Ministry and Dumbledore—even Rita had a word or two in."   
"Rita!" cried Hermione. "Rita Skeeter? She's here?"   
"Sure," shrugged Harry. "But you don't have to worry," he said quickly, observing her scowl. "She actually asked if it would be alright for her to write the exclusive on this."   
"And you told her she could?"   
"Only if she sends you the final copy for proofing before it goes to press."   
Hermione grinned at him.   
The students around them began to rise, making their way, with their parents, towards the Portrait hole and down to the Great Hall. Mrs. Weasley helped Mr. Weasley to his feet, and, along with Bill's assistance, managed to move him forward, towards the opening.   
With final identical glowers at Ginny, the twins followed them. Ron, Harry and Hermione waited until everyone else had cleared away, lingering behind to wait for the rest of the sixth years.   
Ginny was the last to exit, following them out. After going down one flight of stairs, she suddenly stopped.   
"Ummm…I forgot something in the Tower. I'll catch you up, just tell Mum and Dad I'll be right down?"   
Ron raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "Alright, then…"   
She watched as they bustled off, talking quietly amongst themselves. When they had turned the corner, she headed in the opposite direction of the staircase, making her way through the hall to another flight of steps in the far corner.   
A few twists and turns brought her to the familiar trapdoor of the Divination room; she paused and pulled out her wand.   
"_Accio_ ladder," she whispered softly. Madam Trelawney's silver ladder descended to the floor and she climbed up it swiftly, trying not to make noise.   
The classroom was dark, and the fire was unlit, as it had been the first time she'd been up here. There was no light under Madam Trelawney's door; she was probably somewhere downstairs, preparing for the gathering Professor Dumbledore had called.   
Everything was in order.   
She sighed, sitting down on one of the puffs Madam Trelawney had used for her classes.   
She hadn't told anyone, but her family's reactions—as well as those of Hermione, Harry, even Mrs. Malfoy—had not upset her. She had expected their responses—each and every one. And though some were a little more troublesome than others (she wouldn't rest easy until her father actually spoke more than two words) none of them had concerned her like Draco's had.   
It had been he…his face earlier in the hospital wing…that had preoccupied her thoughts over the course of the last few hours.   
_I wish I could…but I'm not going to guarantee anything…_   
He was uncertain of himself. Uncertain as to what he was going to do when the time came to face Voldemort. There was a possibility he _would_ become a Death Eater. He hadn't lied to her about that.   
She buried her face in her hands. "Maybe they _are_ right. This isn't going to be easy. Can I handle it, if he turns around again? It seems so difficult…"   
"That's never stopped you before."   
Ginny turned; Draco was standing just beyond the trapdoor, watching her.   
  
"This room seems to have some kind of a charm on it, don't you think?" Draco asked, as Ginny turned to face him. "I had to come, I wasn't certain why—now I know."   
She smiled. "Well, it is the Divination classroom, after all."   
"Right. Too bad that old bat doesn't really have much to show for it, does she?"   
"You look much better," Ginny said quickly.   
"I feel a little better. And at least I know what you went through."   
"Hardly. I mean, I hardly compare."   
He moved over to where she was sitting, taking the settee right next to her. "Ginny…" All hint of amusement washed from his face as he observed her, stoic and pensive.   
"Do you have doubts about this, Draco, like I do? Or is everything clearer to you?"   
He laughed sharply. "I only wish."   
"Is this enough? The feelings…are they enough? Or…"   
"You were so certain before…you thought it was enough. What changed your mind, Ginny?" he asked, searching her eyes.   
She lowered her head. "When I heard her say it…when I saw the flash. I thought you _died_. And then…in the Hospital Wing…you couldn't promise me that you would never risk your life again. It made me think—that I wouldn't care whether or not you love me, so long as you could live. Even if it meant you becoming what you were…so long as you lived."   
Ginny raised her face to his. "You have a choice to make, Draco. Or you will have one to make, eventually. When we have to face Voldemort, you'll have to decide…him or me. If you choose him, you'll live. I think I could handle that—just so long as you were alive. If you choose me…you might die. I couldn't live with that…"   
"Ginny," Draco said, placing his hands on her shoulders. "I've told you before…nothing is that simple. If I chose the Dark Lord, you would _not_ be fine, for one, and for another, there is no guarantee I _would_ survive. If nothing else, Potter might end up killing me…or another Gryffindor. Maybe even _you_."   
She stiffened.   
"I wish I could divine the future. But I can't, and neither can you. All I want to do is try…one day at a time. We've been given that chance, and I think we should take it."   
She closed her eyes, leaning her forehead softly on his chest. "But…I'm scared. I don't want to lose you again…"   
"I can't promise you much, Ginny…but, as I was going to say before, I can promise you one thing. That if, when that times comes, I feel anything even remotely comparable to what I felt today, seeing you out there, thinking about your being hurt…or worse, then you can be assured…you won't have to worry. About any of it."   
He pulled away from her, and reached for her left hand, placing his Prefect's badge in the palm, where the scar of the tiny snake remained faintly visible.   
"Keep this. If ever I go back on my promise, show this to me. It will remind me of what I thought was most important."   
She stared at the pin a moment, then reached up to her own robes, and unclipped hers. "Here. It's time I returned the favor."   
He held it lightly in his palm, almost as if he was afraid it might sting him. "I…don't have to burn this into the palm of my hand, do I?" he said suddenly, with a sly half-smile.   
She glared at him. "Of course. I'll even help you with that, although I don't think I'd be particularly good with the curse you'd need to do it." Her eyes widened. "OH! I'm sorry, I wasn't even thinking…"   
He laughed for a moment, then grew sober, raising a hand to her hair. "Don't you see? _This is right_. I can feel it. If all the rest seems confused and out of place, this doesn't…you and I…don't you agree?"   
She nodded, her heart fluttering slightly.   
"Then maybe there's our answer."   
"I just hope we can remember it when the rest of the world asks the question."   
He closed his fingers about her pin, then clipped it to his robes. "I will do my best to try."   
"As will I." She clipped the pin to her own robes, fingering the "P". "Not many people will be able to tell the difference. Only those who really notice."   
"Of whom there will be plenty, I can assure you."   
He rose slowly, grimacing just a little bit. "I suppose we should go down to the Great Hall."   
Ginny stood up beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. "Just a moment more."   
He smiled, wrapping his arms about her. The dim sunlight pouring through the small window lit the hazy mist of the classroom, sending silver shadows throughout.   
"My brothers might try something funny," she said finally. "I would be on my guard if I were you."   
"I'd like to see them try."   
She pulled back, grinning. "I'm still better at hexing and jinxing anyway."   
"As I remember _very_ well."   
Ginny moved away from him. "But you almost beat me, you know. If you'd not been afraid of my Bat Summoning spell, you might have bested me in the forest."   
"Who said I was afraid of bats?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.   
"Your _face_," she replied back with a mischievous grin. "I don't think I've ever seen your eyes that wide. You looked like you were about to faint."   
"I was _not_. You caught me by surprise, is all."   
"I'm rather good at that," she said, and with a smile, leaned up and kissed him.   
"That," he said with a genuine grin, after she'd released him, "was much better than anything I could have imagined. My Patronus ought to be really grand, the next time."   
  
"Where is she?" hissed Hermione, staring at the doors of the Great Hall. Harry shrugged. Ginny hadn't yet returned. Ron was tapping his fingers on the table, ignoring the food that lined the center—unusual for him; he almost always arrived for supper before the House Elves even sent up the food.   
"Who knows…but…that might have something to do with it."   
Hermione followed his gaze. At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was also missing, and Pansy was almost as focused on the doors as Ron, Fred and George.   
The Hall was packed, lined with parents who had turned out to hear Dumbledore speak. Colin Creevey had mentioned something about this being a fire hazard; Seamus had been quick to point out that if anything did catch fire, there were about a thousand different wands available for anti-inflamare spells.   
"She's going to miss Dumbledore's speech."   
"She had better _not_," said Ron. "Dad's already sent an owl to Fleur about the exchange program at Beauxbatons."   
Ginny entered the hall a few moments later, hand in hand with Malfoy. A choking sound erupted from somewhere on the Slytherin side of the hall; near the windows of the Gryffindor side, one of twins' super enhanced Gred and Forge Fireworks exploded, showering them in silver sparkles, gold smoke, and rainbow swirls. The entire hall went completely silent.   
A pair of identically scorched faces emerged from the haze as the Great Hall erupted into peals of laughter. Harry quickly turned from them, trying to hide his smirk; Hermione was making a poor attempt to cover her giggles with a series of random coughs. Even Bill and Mr. Weasley, who had revived a bit when Harry presented him with a set of muggle pencils, were chortling. Only Ron and Ginny seemed not at all amused; he starting grinding his fingers into some nearby tarts, she released Malfoy's hand, crossing her arms and glaring at them.   
"Well, as we've finally succeeded in quieting the hall," said Professor Dumbledore with a smile, "I believe we can begin."   
Ginny smiled at Malfoy and headed towards Gryffindor, he granted her a small grin and headed for the Slytherins, but not before throwing Harry and Ron a rather nasty sneer.   
Ron's hands moved into the mashed potatoes.   
"As you must all know, it brings me great pleasure to see each and every one of you here. What saddens me is the manner and circumstances under which we have been brought together.   
"Nothing could have prepared us for what occurred yesterday evening. There has never been an attack of that magnitude on the grounds of this school; despite our protections and prevention measures, most of our security was compromised."   
"ALL of the security was compromised," snorted Ron.   
"Quiet," Hermione hissed.   
"However…despite her careful planning, we were possessed of something the person responsible for the attack could never have prepared for. We had the fortitude, bravery, and strength of your children. Initially, the Professors tried every measure possible to prevent their involvement; but their own courage and sense of duty led them to disobey our direct orders and engage themselves in battle.   
"We should be very glad for the defiance of youth," said the Headmaster, his eyes twinkling at Harry.   
"Without the involvement of the students, Hogwarts, and all those within its halls, would most certainly have been destroyed. It was the efforts of the students that prevented the Dementor Army from succeeding in their mission; it was also their effort that destroyed the army completely. They protected not only their school, but their professors, and most importantly, themselves.   
"For their efforts, every House will be awarded an additional 200 points to their cup standings. A further fifty points will be awarded to Gryffindor, as I believe it was they who initially decided, as they usually do, that it would be to their advantage to break every rule we'd set for them."   
A great cheer rose from the Gryffindor side of the Hall; Mr. Weasley and Bill beamed at them; even Mrs. Weasley, who was trying her best to maintain a serious face, couldn't help but smile proudly.   
"There is one other House, however, who deserves equal praise. There is little doubt in anyone's mind who the true heroes of last evening's battle were. Without their help, or their determination, we would most certainly have lost many more lives than we did. For that, Slytherin House will receive one hundred House Points, and an award for Special Services to the school."   
Silence greeted this declaration.   
The Slytherins glanced at one another in surprise. It was the first time in quite a while any of them had been so highly praised by Dumbledore, or any other member of Hogwarts, for that manner. The other Houses began to whisper amongst themselves; the Slytherin parents looked on, some perplexed, others amused. Many wore scowls.   
Ginny frowned, and from her position behind Hermione, began to clap.   
Others around the Hall turned to her; many of the Hufflepuffs followed suit, along with the Ravenclaws, and, eventually, (after a great deal of scowling and a bit of prodding by their parents) the Gryffindors. The Slytherins began to grin, and a cheer finally rose among them, despite their parents' rather unenthusiastic response.   
Snape, from his position at the Head table, grinned. Harry's eyes widened; he'd never seen Snape smile—at least not genuinely—before.   
Ron looked disgusted.   
"Every effort should be commended, of course," said Dumbledore, as the applause for Slytherin died away. "But we cannot forget what is most important. It is not so much what we saved today as what we lost.   
"Seven lives were taken from us. We must take a moment to reflect on all of those who died bravely…because they will forever be reminders of what the cost of our own lives has been.   
"Martha Paddington and Adam Fitzwater made their livings in Hogsmeade. Martha helped out at the Post Office, tending to the owlery. Adam was a caretaker for the Hogwarts Express, making sure the train ran on time to its feature destinations, maintaining the platforms, and keeping a watch out for anything that might delay its arrival.   
"Both lost their lives tonight on the cliff face overlooking Hogwarts, where they had climbed to assist in the final attack of the Dementors. Both encountered their worst fears, and, unfortunately, succumbed to them. But we can assure they shall not be forgotten; the newest owls in the owlery have already been named after Martha, and from this day forward, a special plaque with Adam's name shall adorn the windows of the platforms both in Hogsmeade and at Platform 9 ¾.   
"Mathias Lynch was Hogwarts' Defenses Against the Dark Arts Professor. He was incredibly skilled at his job, and much beloved by the majority of our students. I, like so many around me, hoped he would fill the position permanently, but, alas, we shall have to do with the loss of yet another brilliant mind.   
"Professor Lynch believed in giving everything for the cause of defending against the Dark Arts…"   
A few of the Slytherin parents narrowed their eyes at this.   
"…and, unfortunately, he died as he lived. He sacrificed himself for another, saving a student from the misfortune of being attacked by a Lethifold, and offering himself to the creature instead. His name shall never be forgotten at Hogwarts, nor shall it be forgotten in the wizarding world. Those of us who knew him, and respected him, will make sure of this.   
"Finally…to the greatest loss of all," Professor Dumbledore removed his glasses, rubbing at his eyes. "We lost four students today. Hogwarts has not suffered such a tragedy in quite some time, the closest we might be able to venture is the sudden and tragic death of Cedric Diggory at the hands of Lord Voldemort."   
Much of the Hall gasped at the sound of the name; many Hufflepuffs bowed their heads. Harry noticed that even the Slytherins appeared remorseful.   
"But tonight…tonight we lost four of our own to a cause that should never have been. It is a terrible tragedy for any life to be taken, but, like the wasteful death Cedric suffered, it is worse because these four young people were never really given the opportunity to live.   
"Gregory Allendon was a proud member of Hufflepuff, who delighted in Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures. He ever smiled; nothing seemed to discourage him, or depress his spirits. He considered his arrival into the wizarding world the greatest blessing he could have ever received.   
"Astor Reid cared for every ounce of her world; she called Hogwarts her 'garden of discovery' because every new encounter was a delight to her. To her friends in Hufflepuff, she believed in devotion and support; she never abandoned them despite their faults. No one in the world would have ever believed she came from a small family of pure-bloods, because her desire to learn about everything in the wizarding world equaled that of the most curious muggle-born.   
"Amanda Jenkins believed wholeheartedly in the practices of discipline and study. She could often be found devoting her time and energy to discovering the logic of the wizarding world. Her peers in Ravenclaw found her to be a source of both strength and knowledge, and when it came time to defend what she believed in, Amanda gave her all.   
"Anthony Dolohov bore the hallmark of Slytherin house—ambition. He was as devoted a member of Slytherin as he was of Hogwarts, and used his determination and fortitude to excel beyond reason to the realm of superb in all of his classes. His ultimate devotion to the school, despite what others who knew or loved him might think, show his truly genuine and unwavering character and his strong sense of duty and honor.   
"He, like all the rest, will never be forgotten. Last night will be recorded as one of the greatest tragedies—as well as triumphs—in the long history of this much beloved school."   
Dumbledore replaced his glasses, gazing over the somber crowd. "Many of you are wondering why these brave souls had to lose their lives. The answer does not lie where you might expect.   
"The Dementor army was organized and led by only one witch—Bellatrix Lestrange. Contrary to what it appears, I believe Lord Voldemort had no involvement with this attack."  
A collective gasp rose through the crowd, followed by frantic whispers and murmuring. The parents near the Slytherin table exchanged confused, angry glances.  
"It is my belief Bellatrix organized the creatures with help from a few of her lower level contacts; she arranged for Voldemort's spies throughout the Ministry, most of whom have been caught, to reorganize the spells around the school. But contrary to what might appear, to they or anyone else, Bellatrix never consulted or informed Lord Voldemort as to her intentions. It is my belief that if she had, he would have done everything in his power to stop it."   
"Why?" questioned one Ravenclaw parent suddenly, before clasping a hand over her mouth.   
He smiled at her for a moment, before growing serious once more. "Because Lord Voldemort honors his ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, as much as the members of Slytherin House do. He would not wish to see Slytherin's work destroyed. Further, he would not employ so detached an attacker to come after the students. Finally, he would not attempt to destroy those whom he might feel could carry on his own goals and ambitions."   
His eyes darted to the Slytherin table for a moment. The parents who had been scowling earlier now smiled at him slyly.   
Harry glanced over at Malfoy; he was not smiling, nor was his mother.   
"However, thanks to the strength of our students, we were able to overcome this attacker and reverse her foul intentions.   
"That does not mean that we are safe from this type of attack. Which is why I am choosing to speak to you about Lord Voldemort now, despite his lack of involvement. We have overcome a great obstacle on this day, and have survived to tell the tale. But as I warned your children once before—the danger has only just begun to emerge, and until Lord Voldemort has been removed from this world completely, it will not cease."   
He looked straight at Harry as he said this; Harry turned from him, his hands trembling slightly on the table. Hermione glanced at them, then looked to his face suspiciously; he hurriedly shoved them under the table and gave her a less-than-convincing smile.   
"As I told your children before, now is the time to be prepared. We must not forget what was at stake here tonight…nor must we relinquish the power to face it, if we can. We must remain firmly devoted to the cause of protecting our future and preserving our past. We must be determined that Lord Voldemort will not take away from us what we hold most precious and dear. Bellatrix accomplished one of her goals tonight; we must see to it that Lord Voldemort never succeeds in his. And we shall."   
The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws erupted into applause; the Slytherin table presented a mixed reaction, a few clapping, most remaining silent.   
Dumbledore sat back down. Harry swallowed as the Headmaster looked to the Gryffindor table, but to Harry's surprise, it was not he who Dumbledore was focused on, but Ginny. She was gazing at the Slytherin table worriedly; Harry followed her gaze.   
Malfoy was listening to something his mother was saying; there was a somewhat pained expression on his pale face. He caught sight of Harry staring at him and glared, then noticed Ginny—who immediately colored and turned away. Malfoy flushed a pale pink; his mother glanced at him, then over to the Gryffindors, and frowned.   
Dumbledore was staring between the two tables thoughtfully, glancing from Ginny to Narcissa to Malfoy and back to Harry. He began speaking, so softly at first hardly anyone paid attention, until Professor McGonagall raised a hand.   
"Seeing all of you here tonight…parents and children, husbands and wives…has made me realize something important which I forgot to mention. Though bravery, loyalty, wisdom, and ambition abound at Hogwarts, there was only once force at work last night. The single most powerful trait any of our students possess. The one strength we all have the capability of possessing, and the one we shall have to call upon to ensure our survival against those who would take it, and everything else, away from us. It isn't power, it isn't knowledge…it isn't even courage. It is love.   
"Love is such an extraordinary force. It changes things beyond reason or reckoning. It can make heroes out of villains and villains out of heroes. It defies logic, and time, and even destiny. We cannot control it, even if we try, and we should not wish to. For more often than not, it is the only thing that can save us. Whether it be man to woman, boy to girl, or mother to child, it is unquestionably the most powerful magic we will ever discover, possess, or control. And the one type that cannot be overcome. I hope we all choose to remember that, for as long as we are living, for no matter how dire the situation may be, what we might do, or must do, if we have something to hold onto, we shall survive."   
Harry glanced around the hall. Most of the parents, and the students, sat in a stunned silence. Even the Slytherin parents seemed moved by the Headmaster's final few words. Barely a glower or a grimace passed through the lot.   
"That we might always remember that," murmured Hermione softly.   
"I'm not completely certain, but something tells me that we shall," he replied with a small smile. His stomach didn't feel quite so hollow, anymore.   
  
"Tell me."   
"S-she didn't even let Malfoy know, my Lord," said Peter Pettigrew, his shoulders nervously twitching. "She just attacked, without warning. And she used the Dementors, my Lord. There are but few left."   
"The school."   
"It remains intact, sir. She killed seven people, but did not touch Potter or Dumbledore."   
"I would not have expected so pitiful an attempt to overcome either one of them. And Bella?"   
"She is dead, my Lord."   
"At Dumbledore's hands?"   
"No. By her own sister. By Narcissa Malfoy."   
The Dark Lord rose, moving along the stone mantelpiece.   
"I have been told that Bella was trying to kill Narcissa's son," Pettigrew continued nervously. "Draco Malfoy was assisting Dumbledore in staving off the attack. He was attacked with the Cruciatus curse, but he survived."   
"And the others of Slytherin?"   
"All live save one. Anthony Dolohov is dead."   
Voldemort's eyes glimmered beneath his dark hood. "A childish notion, to try and destroy Hogwarts directly. To attack Potter while Dumbledore is close."   
"My Lord, what should be done about Narcissa Malfoy?"   
"What should be done?"   
"I…I…do not…I…"   
"The woman chose to protect her son. Bellatrix acted very foolishly, her death was to be expected. The boy is safe. And Dumbledore remains. That is all that matters."   
"So…it does not matter, that the children fought to protect the school?"   
"They were Slytherins. Would you expect less? But of course not," Voldemort turned, narrowing his eyes. "You were of Gryffindor."   
"My Lord."   
"Leave Narcissa Malfoy, and her son, to me. Lucius and my other _faithful_ followers deserve a respect only I may grant.   
"And let the rest know…anyone else who defies my wishes, and attempts to attack either Potter or Dumbledore without my knowledge WILL suffer the consequences."   
Pettigrew stifled a cry. "Yes…yes…my Lord."   
"This little incident has changed nothing. We continue as planned."   
"Y-yes…my Lord."   
  
The majority of chatter in the Great Hall had died away; many parents had finally, after quite a few final hugs and goodbyes, returned to their homes.   
Professor Dumbledore stood near the doors, addressing the parents as they left. Many appeared to feel easier leaving than they had before the Headmaster's speech; quite a few thanked Dumbledore for his efforts at protecting the students.   
The Slytherins had shown as much respect and courtesy to him as the rest, perhaps because he had praised their children so highly, although Harry believed it was more of a façade that it appeared. But Dumbledore had fearlessly faced the most ruthless of the Death Eaters and lived to tell about it, and that warranted some regard.   
Narcissa Malfoy had not yet left; quite a few owls had been directed her way during the course of the evening, one of which was Hermes, Percy Weasley's tawny colored bird.   
"The Minister's got something to say to her, I'd wager," said Ron, who'd finally regained his appetite, and was stuffing himself with cream puffs. "Hope it's a trial date."   
Ginny had frowned at him. "She was saving her son's life. You wouldn't want Mum to be punished because she did the same thing for _you_."   
"My Mum's not a _Malfoy_," Ron spat back.   
Draco Malfoy looked a little concerned at the letters she was receiving; he spent most of the evening speaking with her and trying not to look over at the Gryffindor table, although it appeared he couldn't help himself. Every so often he would sneak a look at Ginny, who would return his smile with a wave or a smile of her own. When he was caught by Harry or one of the others, his face would tinge a bright pink, and he would hurriedly look away. Harry almost considered asking Colin Creevey to take a picture for posterity's sake.   
Arthur Weasley had also received quite a bit of mail, which he'd willingly shared with the rest of the Gryffindors, all save one letter, which had a fancy, gold-embossed sentence on it that looked suspiciously like French.   
"Dumbledore was right," he told them after the latest owl had arrived. "The investigation of the Wizarding Authorities revealed that it was indeed caused by Bellatrix Lestrange's own desire to destroy Hogwarts, and that You-Know-Who was uninvolved."   
"What about Mrs. Malfoy?" questioned Hermione.   
"She is set to go in front of the Wizengamot in a few months." Arthur crumpled up the last of the papers. "More than likely, she'll be held accountable, but she won't be sent to Azkaban."   
Ginny was the only one who sighed in relief.   
"Shame," muttered George.   
"Why?" Ginny asked.   
"Well…its not like she doesn't deserve to be right next to that foul husband of hers. Who do you think's been coordinating all the Death Eaters since old Lucius has been put away? Who do you think harbored Bella and the others who were sought after? And who orchestrated with Kreacher about the attack last year? Narcissa Malfoy deserves to be in Azkaban, right alongside her husband."   
Ginny opened her mouth, caught a glance at Harry's face, and closed it again.   
"Still…she was just trying to protect her son. And she didn't hold any of us responsible for what happened. She's been courteous all evening," said Hermione.   
"Let me let you in on a little secret regarding the Malfoys," said Fred. "They're very good at _lying_."   
"Draco wasn't lying when he threw himself in front of an army of Dementors to save me," said Ginny hotly. "And he certainly wasn't lying when Bellatrix subjected him to the Cruciatus curse. And he didn't lie when he created that Patronus."   
"A Patronus? Malfoy created a Patronus?" asked Mr. Weasley.   
"Yes. A Dragon."   
"Really?"   
"Really."   
"It actually _was_ rather impressive," said Harry, seeing the twins doubtful faces. "Probably the largest Patronus I've ever seen."   
"Now just what could have made Malfoy capable of that?" asked Fred with a scowl.   
Ginny turned violently red.   
"What's all that about?!" yelled George, coming towards her.   
"NOTHING!" she piped, turning away from him.   
"Ginny…"   
"Now, listen, that is enough!" cried Molly Weasley suddenly. "I've had enough of this nonsense, from all of you. We're going to handle this like rational people, and not a great bunch of hooligans!"   
She rose from the table and marched decidedly towards the Slytherin side of the hall. The rest of the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione watched, open-mouthed, as she made her way to Narcissa Malfoy's side.   
"Mrs…Malfoy?"   
Draco and his mother turned to stare at her, Narcissa lifting her nose slightly at Mrs. Weasley's hand-knit jumper and worn skirt. Draco looked a bit nonplussed, and glanced at Ginny with a surprised expression.   
She shrugged.   
"I'm not certain about any of what has occurred here, but…I believe, as from one mother to another, we should perhaps be introduced?"   
Mrs. Malfoy regarded her for a moment. "Molly…Prewitt?" she said at last, her nose wrinkling. "I believe we've already _met_."   
"Yes, that's right." Mrs. Weasley's eyes narrowed. "And you were once Narcissa Black. I remember you as well."   
"Then…what more have we to say to one another, Mrs…._Weasley_…" she said rather nastily.   
"Mother," hissed Draco.   
"We have nothing to say, I suppose, but as this doesn't concern us, but rather our children, I believe that we should at least attempt a small measure of civility," returned Mrs. Weasley in a cold voice.   
Narcissa's face hardened, and she glanced back and forth between Ginny and Malfoy, both of whom were blushing. "What exactly do you have in mind?"   
"Nothing particular," Mrs. Weasley replied, extending her hand. "Simply to introduce myself once more. My name is Molly Prewitt Weasley, and I am certain you've already met my daughter, Ginevra. We call her Ginny for short."   
Mrs. Malfoy eyed her extended hand. Malfoy cleared his throat.   
"Mother…" he said softly.   
Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "Oh, very well." She rose, lifting her chin and clasping Mrs. Weasley's gently. I am Narcissa Black Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco. Draco?"   
Draco rose. "Pleasure to meet you," he mumbled, taking Mrs. Weasley's hand. She looked a bit surprised, but shook his hand gratefully. His face twisted into a frown until he caught sight of Ginny, who was beaming at him, the expression softened a bit.   
Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron were watching the scene with a mixture of amazement and horror; Mr. Weasley had managed to snap in half every new pencil Harry had given him. Even Bill appeared a bit taken aback.   
Hermione, on the other hand, was smiling and patting Ginny on the shoulder.   
"Well then, it was a pleasure. Perhaps we shall seen one another soon."   
"Perhaps."   
Mrs. Weasley trotted back to the Gryffindor side of the hall, her face rather blank. "There you are," she said, as she sat back down alongside Mr. Weasley. "A perfectly pleasant woman."   
Harry raised an eyebrow at this; Ron stared at his mother as though he'd never seen her before.   
"Thank you, Mum," said Ginny softly.   
"And _don't_ think for a moment that gives you permission to go about doing shady things, Ginny!"   
"MUUUUUUUMMMM!"   
"I mean it young lady! If I find out about any shenanigans on your part, I promise I WILL look into that exchange program your father's examining! But…" she turned, glancing back at Draco, "he does seem like a nice boy."   
"WHAT!" cried Fred, George, and Ron in unison.   
"Well, he has a nice face. And such lovely gray eyes."   
"Hermione," garbled Ron, grasping at her hand. "Do you remember the recipe for that Permanent Forgetfulness Potion?"   
"Make that a double," said Fred, looking sick.   
"Triple," added George.   
"Can you make enough for four?" asked Mr. Weasley, crumpling up the prettily embossed cards in his hands.   
  
The Weasleys were one of the last to leave Hogwarts; Professor Dumbledore made sure to see them off at the Gryffindor fireplace personally before they went.  
"It was good to see you again, Molly, Arthur," said the Headmaster, shaking their hands."   
"Thank you for all you've done, Albus," said Mr. Weasley. "We'll make sure to keep…_in touch. _"   
"Thank you, Arthur. And you as well, Molly. Give my love to the others, if you see them."   
"Of course, Albus. Goodbye, boys. Harry, take care of yourself, and you too, Hermione dear. And Ginny…" she stepped away from the grating for a moment. "Please take care of yourself…and be careful."   
"Yes Mum," said Ginny hugging her.   
"You look so grown up," said Mrs. Weasley with a soft smile. "I am so very proud of you."   
"Thank you, Mum."   
"Goodbye, Ginny," said her father, swallowing. "I'm…um…goodbye dear, take care of yourself."   
"Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley warningly.   
"I'm sure he's a lovely boy," said Mr. Weasley with a rush. He leaned in towards Ginny. "How is your French?"   
"Dad!"   
"Arthur!"   
"Goodbye, dear," he said quickly, kissing her on the forehead. "Harry, Hermione, boys…take care of yourselves."   
"Likewise, Dad," said Ron.   
In a matter of moments, they had returned to the Burrow.   
Bill waved at them casually. "Take care. Ginny, make sure to keep that head on your shoulders."   
"I will."   
He grasped a handful of Floo Powder. "Gracechurch Street." With a bright green flash, he disappeared.   
Fred and George closed in around Ginny. "Just because you're our sister doesn't mean we're going to take it easy on him," said Fred.   
"It doesn't mean we'll _ever_ accept him."   
"Or that we'll even _like_ him."   
"In fact, we plan to _dislike_ him."   
"Maybe even _hate_ him."   
"Forever."   
"Fine," said Ginny casually. "You can think what you like. But if you even _think_ of harming one hair on his head—and that means in person, or by mail—unless I've told you to, you'll both be sorry, I promise."   
They stared at her, frowning. "What do you mean?" asked George.   
"You'll have to wait and see, I guess," she said with a nasty grin. "Not one hair." She handed them both their Floo powder. "I'll see you later, then, take care."   
They both stared at her for a moment. She grinned at them sweetly. They looked at each other, then moved to the fireplace, Floo powder in hand.. "Diagon Alley," Fred called, followed by George. Both disappeared into the grating.   
Ginny and Hermione began to snicker.   
"What's this all about?" asked Ron confusedly.   
"I just want to make sure that Fred and George know _exactly_ what I mean when I said they'd be sorry."   
"What did you do?"   
"I had Hermione alter the Floo Powder I handed to them just a little bit. Seems they're going to get a grand tour of some of prettiest highlands in all of Scotland, at least for a few hours."   
"What?"   
"And I replaced their wands with those new magical disappearing ones they just created," she said, holding up the identical mahogany wands Fred and George usually carried. "They're going to be stranded."   
"Only for a few hours," said Hermione quickly as Harry and Ron stared first at Ginny, then her, in surprise. "They had to know Ginny was serious. We'll send an owl with their wands in a few hours."   
"_Hermione_!" said Ron, shocked.   
"It was my idea, actually," said Ginny with a grin. "And don't think I won't try it again, if certain _other_ brothers decide they're going to interfere."   
Ron's mouth dropped open, and he twitched a bit.   
"Don't worry about Ron," said Harry truthfully, nudging his friend on the shoulder. "It'll just…take some getting used to, is all. For all of us, and that includes the Slytherins."   
"You ARE going to have to watch yourself, Ginny," said Hermione seriously. "You never know what the Slytherins might be capable of."   
"I know," sighed Ginny, moving towards the portrait hole. "I will, I promise. I just hope that…that some things will be easier than others." She smiled at them sadly, then opened the portrait and moved into the hall.   
"So do I," said Ron, finally speaking, as the portrait closed behind her.   
"Don't worry, mate. We'll look after her," said Harry as he turned to them with a weary look.   
"And so will Malfoy," said Hermione with a grin.   
Ron glared at her.   
"Honestly, Ron. We can trust Ginny."   
"But Malfoy?"   
"We can hope, can't we?" said Harry seriously. "After all…we have much greater things to worry about. None of this has solved the problem we're still facing, with Voldemort and such. Whatever might bring us a little hope…we have to accept as a good thing."   
Ron lowered his head. "Right."   
"Besides…Malfoy created a Patronus. That means he has one happy thought, at least—something he apparently never had before," said Hermione comfortingly. "And if Draco Malfoy can change his mind, even if it's only about one person, then that means hope for the rest of the Slytherins—and even the pure-bloods in general."   
"Or it could me nothing at all," said Ron. "We still can't be sure we can trust him. We don't know if he's given up on Voldemort—or if he's really capable of change at all. If any of them are."   
"No…but we can hope, can't we?" asked Harry, patting him on the back.   
_There is always hope…_   
  
"Draco? Where are you off to at this hour?"   
Professor Snape paused as Draco emerged from the Slytherin Common Room, tapping the wall back into place.   
"Professor…I…"   
"Has your mother left, already?" Snape asked, ignoring Draco's slightly troubled expression.   
"Yes, sir, she returned home about an hour ago."   
"You needn't worry about her, I am sure the situation shall work itself out."   
"Yes sir. I suppose I feel a bit guilty—the fault really was mine."   
"No one would hold you accountable for any part of what occurred last night, Draco. In fact, I believe a great many feel indebted to you—and all the Slytherins. For once, I am glad you disobeyed my orders."   
Draco smiled slightly. "Thank you, sir.   
He moved past the Professor, feeling slightly down. The Potions Master watched him silently as he walked by.   
"Your Patronus today was very impressive. You managed to hold onto a happier thought than Potter's demise, I assume?"   
Draco paused, turning pink. "Yes, sir."   
"Good."   
"Sir?" Draco said, surprised.   
"Not 'good' that you've given up on hating Potter," Snape said hurriedly.   
"I _haven't_."   
"Of course not. I would not expect you to, and there is nothing wrong with that. But you have elevated something to a greater importance than your feelings towards he and his friends, and that will prove much more useful in the end should other such situations arise."   
"I hope so, sir," Draco said softly. "I'm still not certain if it's completely worth it…the other Slytherins don't think so…and they are my House, after all."   
"Do _you_ think "it" is worth it?" asked the Professor.   
Draco paused for a moment, then smiled. "Yes."   
"Then it is worth it. The only thing that matters is whether you believe in it or not."   
"I do believe…but…I also wonder more if I'll be able to keep it or not…with…with You-Know…"   
Professor Snape walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Take things one day at a time, Draco. Believe me, decisions like this are not simple, and should not be taken lightly. But in the end, I trust you will be guided in the right direction. Those with fortitude, perseverance, and intelligence always are."   
The Potions Master straightened. "Now, do not be out beyond sunset, or you will receive a slightly harsher punishment than the last time you strayed from the castle. That goes double for anyone you may be meeting."   
Draco nodded, his eyes widening. "Yes sir."   
"Very well, be off. I must go and address the Slytherins regarding the House rules…and how nothing has changed as far as privileges. I'm afraid their being recognized as heroes may not be the very best thing that's happened to this House."   
  
Ginny stepped out of the front doors, moving towards the Forbidden Forest. Near the edge, by a large willow tree—close to the spot where she'd first followed him in a few days ago—stood Draco, pacing back and forth.   
He turned as soon as she drew near. "I wondered if you'd be able to make it. Did your parents leave?"   
"Yes. What about your mum?"   
"She's gone home."   
"Has she heard anything about the inquiry?"   
"Not much. I'm honestly not certain what the Wizengamot might say. I just hope they understand that she was doing it for…me."   
Ginny nodded, her throat tightening. "I hope so too, Draco."   
Above them, the sun was setting, the trees of the Forbidden Forest casting a dim shadow across the Hogwarts grounds. "I suppose it won't be safe to go into the Forbidden Forest for a while. Professor Dumbledore seems to think there might still be Lethifold there."   
"Among other things."   
"Other things?"   
"Hagrid told me Grawp is still not quite…accepting of my presence…just yet…"  
Ginny laughed. "Grawp is a _giant_. I'm afraid explaining this sort of situation may prove a might difficult to explain. He can't even say Hermione's full _name_ yet."  
"He can say mine," said Malfoy, his face twisting. "Rather well."   
"Whether or not Grawp understands it is not important right now. Everyone else is a bit more amenable. We'll just have to keep you out of his part of the forest."   
He turned, staring into the darkness that shadowed the insides of the trees. "That night…you said something…"   
"What?"   
"Kill Malfoy."   
Ginny's eyes widened. "Draco…"   
"I deserved it then, I supposed."   
"Not really. Not really ever. I'll admit…you were nasty at times, Draco, but never deserved to die. You've never done anything that horrible. You are not your father—nor your aunt."   
"I had almost forgotten that, Ginny. It was almost too late. There was so little time left."   
"But it was enough…that's all that matters now," she said, wrapping her arms around him.   
He clasped her to him. "What if I forget? When the time comes…what if I can't remember?" he asked softly. "What if my feelings for Potter…or your brother, overshadow everything? My loyalty to my father…there is so much to try and grasp…what if I forget?"   
Ginny pulled back, her eyes searching his. They were tight, his face twisted into a soft frown. _He's so confused…trapped, somewhere between the darkness and the light…_   
"I'll be there," she said simply, resting her head against his. "No matter what situation we're in, no matter what questions might arise, or what threatens you, I will be there, by your side. I know it will not be as easy to do as it is to say—I suppose nothing is—but no matter what arises, you will not have to face it alone. I promise."   
"Thank you, Ginny," he said.   
"I won't leave you in the shadows, Draco Malfoy. So long as you promise not to leave me behind either."   
"I can't guarantee anything but I can promise that I shall try. Everyday. I will try."   
He pulled her into him, holding her tightly. Around them the grounds of Hogwarts were still and silent; the shadows creeping down the long stretches of rock and grass. Ginny closed her eyes, wrapped in warmth, and, for a moment, felt a sense of hope.   
  
Draco lay his cheek against her brilliant hair, closing his eyes tightly. If nothing else, he wanted everything to stay as it was, just right now, with nothing else interfering.   
_If I want things to stay this way, I will have to believe in her. _   
Whatever his future held, it was certainly not as sunny as Ginny's own would be. It would be littered with darkness, and shadows. But with her here, now, he somehow felt that, just maybe, everything would be alright in the end.   
_I will not live in the shadows forever. So long as she is with me…   
  
Finite Incantatem  
  
: This is a direct Quote from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix  
  
SIGHHHH… All right, that's it, I hope you liked it! If it ends a bit ambiguously, it is supposed to. After all, Draco still has a lot of questions. And with the HP books unfinished, we have to wait for JK to give us the answers. But please don't misunderstand Draco's hesitation, or his final words. He really DOES feel that Ginny can save him. But he's not unaware of the difficulties which lie ahead, the first of which will be having people accept that he's in love with her and that she's a part of his life now (the second being that he's somehow going to have to find a way to make peace with Harry and Ron without betraying the Slytherins!) And I feel that Ginny is the only way he can be saved from the forces that will eventually work against him, when Voldemort re-enters all of their lives. But in trying to stay with canon, I won't have them happily ever after just yet. But they will have hope, and, after all…Draco has changed, er, **enough**, at least in my world!   
  
And now, the thanks…I feel a bit like the LOTR extended version here:   
  
Thank you all so much for reviewing the uncompleted fic: lady of scarlet darkness, seekerpeeker, Vix17, Lisa, Spinn, Tiffanyandco, sabacat, shans, mell8, Priestess of Ishtar, paranoidwench, Hplovaforeva, illuvminidrew, Angelicheezepie, Amanda Mancini, Mrs. H, Mynuet, burgosdamasco, Bel, presiosa, smprsgrrl, TinyQ, Karen1, emvee, Anna, Sandra, Pam, sallene, Liz G. Moonwalker, zarahemla, louf, night, Andromeda77, ano nymous, Lady Thetis, KatarinaRose24, crazyfire89, and, of course, Jonah and Joya (aka Ferret 2)   
  
shameless plug for their fics, Jonah's (Fatum) and Joya's (Do I Not Bleed?)   
  
What really made this story keep going was not just the wonderful reviews, but the diversity of them. More people, and different, showed up for each new chapter, and I know that is thanks to all of you who spread the word. I appreciate it more than I can say. I hope you all enjoyed the finale, and don't worry, I'll be back on ff.net sometime soon. Will there be a sequel? Perhaps…_


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